


With One Note

by CCsnow



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Best Friends, College, F/F, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 75,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCsnow/pseuds/CCsnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new Head Bitch Beca Mitchell meets artistic pre-med student Chloe Beale and goes on a couple of interesting encounters at Casa Bella. Everyone is fighting a hard battle, and Chloe's real challenge is getting through Beca's labyrinth of misleading layers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1-1: The Notorious Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.) I wrote this fan fiction way back in 2013, and I'm re-sharing it on this wonderful website for you guys! Hope you like it! Leave feedback! They'll help me improve as a writer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. SPECIAL THANKS TO your-arms-around-me (FFdotNET) FOR ALL THE HELPFUL CRITIQUE AND ALSO TO TheFlameRose (FFdotNET) FOR OFFICIALLY BETA-ING THIS CHAPTER.

* * *

**With One Note: Part I**

**Chapter 1-1: The Notorious Bastard**  


  
Chloe sat at the bar to hit on some cocktail. It was the last Sunday before school started, and everyone else was having a final blast at a party in this resort Aubrey dragged Chloe to. The night was young, but the redhead was bored stiff with herself. Apparently, this wasn't her idea of a _final blast_.

"What can I get you, pretty lady? _Tequila?_ Or are you the _Rye Malt_ type?" The bartender perked up in front of Chloe.  
  
Chloe checked her mood to decide which drink might match it."Oh, uh, well I, uh-,"  
  
"Hey, McDowell. What's rockin'?" A petite brown-haired girl asked, sitting on the stool beside Chloe.  
  
The bartender greeted back with enthusiasm. "Hey there, Deejay! You up for some _Bourbon Lancer?"_  
  
"Yep. Make that two," the brunette chuckled, gesturing to Chloe.  
  
"Oh. I didn't realize she's your company," the bartender said, retreating to go make their drinks.  
  
The odd brunette held out a hand, ready to shake Chloe's. "Name's Beca."  
  
"Chloe." She accepted the handshake.  
  
"Wow Chloe, you're rocking that blue bikini!"  
  
"You can actually see it through this?" Chloe asked, gesturing to the black lace beach tunic that she wore over Aubrey's bikini. The redhead wasn't really feeling comfortable with it. The only reason the bikini incidentally got transferred into her possession was that her best friend was a fashion Nazi, who threatened to send Chloe to concentration camp if she didn't lose the tank top and denim shorts.  
  
"Well, it's black, and basically the electric blue under it kind of highlights itself out so, yes. I can."  
  
"Wow Beca, that's some fashion eye you got there." Chloe winked. By first look at Beca, she had assumed that the girl was some natural introvert; that through the thick eyeliner hides a mysterious girl with a sad story. Well, Beca barged in, buying her a drink before introducing herself and had criticized Aubrey's bikini out loud, so Chloe _definitely_ had her cards messed up.  
  
"Shhhh!" Beca leaned in a little to Chloe. "That's just between us. They refer to me as a Notorious Bastard around here." She chuckled.  
  
"Badass, huh? Well, I say you're adorable," Chloe mocked.  
  
Beca wrinkled her nose while holding a smile - something Chloe found so cute. "Sorry, I already had some shots earlier. Some tall blondie tried to talk me out of something by bribing me with alcohol." She chuckled. "It won't surprise me if I go back to the stage walking tipsy after the _Lancer…_ Speaking of the devil…"  
  
The bartender returned with the drinks. "Two _Bourbon_ kicks right here," he announced, placing the glasses before the ladies.  
  
"Thanks, McDowell." Beca reached out for her pocket and paid the man for both drinks.  
  
"So Beca, you're a deejay, huh?" Chloe said before sipping from her glass.  
  
"Not exactly the perfect label, but yeah, you could say that. I just do simple gigs though. I mean, I'm a fresh shit who just left high school and is currently enrolled at a hell barn around so the deejay thing will have to be official some time other than today." She frowned and then shook her head, trying to regain her sanity. "God! My words don't even make sense anymore. I'm sorry Chloe I'm just - tired." She slammed her head to the counter.  
  
Chloe smiled at Beca's comical mannerism. "No, it's okay. I actually kinda enjoy your company."  
  
"Good." She raised up her head and looked at the redhead, her eyelids drooping. "But you'll like me less when I'm sober."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah? Why is that?"  
  
"Because the real me is a big-time bitch." Beca chuckled at the thought. "People don't really like me for my inability to feel, so I just don't really like them back." She kept a smile, apparently displaying pride at her own confession.  
  
"Wow. That was so - so straightforward." Chloe couldn't tell if it's the truth or it was just the alcohol speaking. In any case, she found herself gripped to Beca's mysteriousness.  
  
A ringtone went off. Beca immediately reached for the pockets of her jeans, locating her phone.  
  
She held it to her ear as soon as she successfully grappled it out of her pants. "It's Beca, bitch. What's up?" Beca's eyes widened right after. "Oh, hi Dad!"  
  
Chloe spit her drink a little at the blooper.  
  
"Dad, calm down. I'm still at the resort. I still owe Jackson and the guys another 45 minutes so I won't take off 'till then... Uh, no I haven't been drinking." She glanced sideways at Chloe who shot both her eyebrows skyward at her silly lie. "I know, dad. I told you - not one sip... Okay, bye." Beca hung up and indiscriminately tossed her phone to the counter.  
  
"Your dad actually bought that?" Chloe giggled.  
  
"I doubt it. He knew he was speaking to the alcohol that is already all over my system. I guess he's just too tired from work to actually care." Beca quaffed on her _Lancer_ , deepening the irony on purpose.  
  
A man's voice came up out of thin air. "Hey, sexy." As he approached, he propped his elbows at the counter, just beside Beca. McDowell attended to him as he ordered a drink.  
  
Beca rolled her eyes upon realizing who it was. "Come on, Chloe. Let's get out of here."  
  
She was about to stand up when the guy sardonically spoke. "Hey babe, don't leave me here all alone. Where are you going?"  
  
Beca glared at him. "What do you want, Haull? Want me to introduce you to my fist?!"  
  
"Woah there, deejay sleazebag. I'm not here to grab the spotlight again when you go on a date with the clinic." Haull's face was met by Beca's left hook, making his last two words barely audible. He dropped to floor, knocking along two other guys and a waiter with his tray.  
  
Chloe gasped; she totally didn't see it coming. The little brawl has already drawn attention from the club crowd. Seeing Haull's nose starting to bleed profusely, Chloe placed a hand over her shocked expression. Who knew that Beca could take down such a big guy with her tiny frame?  
  
Beca got down to Haull and clutched the collar of his now blood-stained shirt - pulling him up a little. "You know what, punk?!..." She said with conviction. "I can do this all night!"  
  
"Beca!" Chloe called from her stance, afraid to touch the brunette. She will literally just fly off with one backward swing of Beca's resistant arm if even she tried to restrain her.  
  
Beca ignored Chloe's voice. She let go her grip on Haull, dropping him back flat on the floor. With her fist still clenched, Beca raised her left arm, positioning herself ready to throw a crisper hook. She was about to swing it when another guy gripped Beca by her arm and grappled her neck - finally restraining her, and pulled her away from Haull.  
  
"Beca, calm down!" The guy spoke low to Beca's ear, apparently bridling the urge to indiscriminately scold the drunk girl.  
  
Beca struggled to free herself from the guy's arm which was locked around her neck. "Fuck it! Let me go, Jesse!" But he was determined in his grip. People were pooling more and more around them, but Beca didn't seem to care. She just kept on making a larger scene.  
  
Jesse looked to the bleeding man that Beca had knocked over. "Haull, just go!"  
  
Without hesitation, Haull got up weakly and ran away from the scene. Right after that, Jesse freed Beca, who panted as she tried to calm herself down from her rage.  
  
"Show's over!" Jesse yelled over to the curious crowd. They shrugged and dispersed, like they were disappointed more hadn't come of the fight. Chloe stayed - hoping to be able to comfort her new-found friend.  
  
"What the hell, Jesse?!" Beca reproached, glaring at him.  
  
Jesse ran a hand to his hair, holding in another impulse to say something that might trigger Beca's inner fury again. "That's it, Becs; we're leaving."  
  
"Who said I'm obliged to listen to you, huh? I'm staying 'till this whole party is fucking over." Beca arrogantly argued.  
  
"Do it, and I'm telling your father all about this mess." Jesse said, speaking in the _alpha_ tone.  
  
Beca, still glaring at him, took a deep breath. She hated Jesse's ability to manipulate her so easily. Caving in, she rolled her eyes and walked away, already heading for the parking lot.  
  
"Beca," Chloe began, but the brunette simply walked past her. Jesse followed shortly.  
  
"Hey!" Chloe called out to Jesse, who stopped and turned to face her. "Jesse, right?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
Chloe held out Beca's phone, which had been tossed at the counter just before Haull charged in. "Beca left this." She handed it to Jesse.  
  
"Oh thanks."  
  
"Um, Jesse? Can you tell Beca to text me when she gets home? I um, just want to make sure that she'll be okay. I saved my number in it." Chloe sheepishly said - trying to avoid any awkwardness as she thought of Jesse as Beca's boyfriend or something.  
  
"Yeah, sure." Jesse smiled at her before taking off.  
  
"Hey, Red. Who was that guy?" Aubrey appeared suddenly, causing Chloe to jump.  
  
"Gosh, Bree!" She placed a hand over her heart as she let out a sigh. "Next time, send a warning."  
  
"You haven't answered my question yet!" Aubrey squirmed enthusiastically.  
  
"No one! He was I think the boyfriend of the girl I was talking to earlier."  
  
"Oh." Aubrey puffed her cheeks playfully. "You know for a second there, I was about to call Tom and tell him that you've found a new mate." She winked.  
  
"Hey," Chloe raised a hand, signalling Aubrey to slow down and back off of the lies. "Tom and I aren't dating. We're just good friends. And that guy I was talking to, he's nothing."  
  
"Ten bucks, says you got allured to something _interesting_ tonight." Aubrey bet, doubting Chloe by her defenses. Chloe rolled her eyes at Aubrey's drunken dare.  
  
But she must admit, Aubrey had already won the ten bucks. She did find herself allured to something interesting, just not anything equating to Jesse - as Aubrey apparently thought. It was Beca. Something about her captured Chloe. May it be Beca's smooth left hook on Haull, or her unexpected fashion eye, Chloe didn't know. She was sure of one thing, though; Beca poses behind a mask. She definitely sees the brunette as something much more than the _'badass'_ behavior she sported tonight.  
  
_That notorious bastard..._ Chloe thought once more.

* * *

Beca woke up the next day with dry mouth and a throbbing headache. She squinted and looked at the time, grunting in vexation when the little green numbers came into focus. After taking a shower, she went to the kitchen to grab herself a cold glass of water.

"You went home early last night," Sebastian grunted, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he approached the kitchen.

"Jackson changed his mind at the last minute," Beca lied. She opened the cupboard to get her cereal box and walked to the dining area.

Sebastian followed behind his daughter. "You also just missed a class, Bec."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Uh, no. The clock reads 9:44 in the morning. Technically, I still have sixteen minutes before Psychology 101 starts."

She sat at the table and poured corn flakes and milk into her bowl. Sebastian sat across her.

"I thought you said you love that class." He watched her eat.

Beca spoke with her mouth full. "I do, dad. And I wouldn't be missing it if I actually live in a dormitory inside campus instead of this stupid house which is, like, forty minutes away from Barden."

Sebastian let out a sigh. "Beca, we've talked about this."

"Yeah," she sighed, "I know, Dad. You don't feel comfortable with no one watching over me. Well, in case you didn't know, Barden's dorms allow roommates. I won't really be alone. Plus I got 911 and your number on speed dial, so I don't get why you feel the need to worry over me all the time," she explained.

Sebastian couldn't find the words to say back. Her daughter was right. He was simply playing the overprotective dad card. Just like he always has.

This brought Sebastian to another topic. "I know you drank shots last night."

"Dad, we've talked about this." Beca mockingly imitated her father's expression. She definitely loathes her alcohol restraints.

"Yeah, but you know - I'm just concerned." Sebastian said.

"You're always concerned," she replied, her voice full of sarcasm.

Sebastian smiled; it was good to know that she noticed - somehow. "Well, I have a lot of reasons to be."

"Beca!" Someone called out as the sound of the front door shutting echoed through the room.

Sebastian squinted in confusion. "Is that Jesse?"

"Yep." Beca smiled. "Over here, Jess!"

Jesse walked to the dining area, "Beca, you'll never believe what Jackson told me last n-," He stopped upon seeing Sebastian. "Mr. Mitchell! I'm so sorry. I didn't realize-,"

"No, it's okay, Jesse." Sebastian stood from his seat. "I was just leaving."

"Why are you home? I thought you're teaching Comparative Literature every Monday morning," Jesse inquired.

Sebastian sighed, "I am, but the seniors have this three-day leadership training thing so, I'm off for the day." He gave Jesse a pat on his back upon walking by him. "T'was so cool that you realized that." He chuckled before walking away.

Jesse sat across Beca, who is still eating. "Guess you're still a little drunk since you didn't remember your dad's schedule, huh?"

Beca didn't answer; she kept on chewing silently. The last thing she'd want to do at this hour is to contemplate on how she totally missed the fact that her dad is at home at this time of the day.

Damn, this is the worst hangover ever, she moaned mentally.

Beca nurtures the habit of memorizing who leaves the house at what times so that she'll know which mornings she gets the house all to herself, and the afternoons to avoid when Sheila, her stepmother, breathes the same air as her (apparently, something that Beca finds so unbearably unpleasant just by knowing so).

"Jackson called last night," Jesse stated, breaking the silence. "He told me to get your pay from last night's gig, which I did earlier today, by the way - knowing you'll be sleeping in. Plus! He told me that he got you six more gigs lined up for the next two months!" He grinned, centering pride at himself. "How awesome am I?!"

Beca smirked in amusement at Jesse's announcement. "Very awesome!" She raised a hand, seeking a high-five which Jesse happily gave. "Dude thanks for referring me to the man!"

"No prob, weirdo," he mocked.

Jesse has always been the sole supporter of Beca's passion for deejay-ing ever since they met, considering that Sebastian has always pointed out how it is only a hobby and not a profession. It was through Jesse that Jackson learned of Beca's impressive mixing skills (leading him to hire the young girl in one of his client's events – thus, the resort gig yesterday).

Beca continued gormandizing her beloved corn flakes - this time, doing it enthusiastically.

"God, Becs, you passed out last night just as I helped you get into your room." Jesse said.

"Ugh, tell me about it."

"Which is why, I forgot to tell you that someone returned your phone last night." He placed Beca's phone on the desk.

Beca threw a hand to her forehead in embarrassment. "Damn it! Oh man, Jess, I guess I may still be a little drunk right now. I didn't even notice that my phone was missing!" She sighed. "And it was with you the whole time?"

"How do you think I learned about your pay and lined up gigs from Jackson? He knows I'm not your talent manager or something. He called your phone; I picked up. That's all." He then reached out and, faster than Beca could react, seized her cherished cornflakes without warning.

"What the hell, dude?! I'm eating!" She angrily said, standing up from her seat to reach across the table for her bowl.

"Calm down, Becs! I'm gonna return it. Hear me out for now, will ya?" Jesse knew that his best friend hated it when she's interrupted while eating, but this blackmail was the only way he can force out serious answers from her at the moment.

Beca reluctantly retreated to her chair. "Fine."

"Who was the redhead last night? The one who, by the way, asked me to tell you to text her when you get home so she could check up on you." Jesse asked, grinning excitedly while waiting for Beca to answer.

She raised an eyebrow upon getting baffled by Jesse's words. "Redhead? What redhead?"

He rolled his eyes, "You know, the one who returned your phone to me last night? Look I know you were too drunk at the party, but you were never the 'too-wasted-to-remember' type."

"Oh, the redhead," Beca said as the memory finally resurfaced. "Her name was Chelsea something; I forgot." She shook her head digging deeper into memory. "Wait, she told you that?"

Jesse chuckled at the brunette's silly hangover peculiarities. "Yes, she did. She also said that she saved her number in your phone."

Beca reached for her phone which lay on the table and checked her contacts. "It's not her name. I have a 'Chelsea, The Slut' in here, so unless she's my blonde cousin from Nevada-," She chuckled upon bringing up her cousin to the surface.

"Anyway, it's not like I would ever contact her, even if I did know her number," she said. Beca is very much aware of her friendly alternate persona when she's intoxicated so she supposed this redhead as just another shock absorber of her flirty attacks. Once sober, she uses this excuse to cut off bonds she accidentally made under the influence of alcohol.

Jesse didn't seem to content with her response, but he knew very well that she was sincere in her words. For Pete's sake, her bowl of corn flakes was at stake! He thought.

Sebastian returned to the dining area to have a glass of water.

"Ashley keeps asking about you, Becs. It's been going on for almost a week," Jesse said, pushing back Beca's bowl to her. "I kept dismissing her by saying that I would look into it, but I kept forgetting to tell you about it. This morning, she followed me around the quad just to remind me.

"Ugh, I hate how I got transferred to Professor Qwell's class for Math 600! Ashley attends it too. It just gave her more opportunities to inquire to me about your contact info," Jesse whined.

"Why didn't you give her my number, anyway?"

"Well I wanted to get your blessing first. I mean, if she's really grown to be that annoying, you might be hiding from her on purpose to escape the misery," Jesse explained.

Beca chuckled. "Well she can get on people's nerves sometimes. If she kept bugging you on how to reach me, the matter must really be important. Ash-Ash always has her reasons for things."

"Except when she's being annoying," Jesse added. "That would be her - plainly being annoying."

Beca chuckled. "It's okay, Jess. I'll talk to her, if she really wants me to."

"Okay then! I know now what to tell Ash-Ash," Jesse said.

"Ash-Ash? Beca's cousin Ash-Ash?" Sebastian chimed in, acting as though he hadn't been paying attention to the rest of their conversation.

Beca rolled her eyes on her father. "Yes, dad. Ashley - your sister's daughter, AKA your niece. She also just started at Barden."

It's been a while since Sebastian heard from his sister and her family. It wasn't because of rivalry or unhealthy relationships of any kind; his sister moved out of Georgia when she re-married. For some unknown reason then, all contacts were cut off. "Sissie didn't tell me they've moved back here."

Not being a big fan of cute and girly stuff, Beca sighed heavily at the name her father calls her aunt. "They didn't. Ashley is the only one here in Georgia; she's staying in one of Barden's dorms."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Sebastian sat with Beca and Jesse. His daughter gave him a 'What are you saying?' look complete with one raised eyebrow. He continued speaking, hoping to knock the sense into Beca. "You've always wanted to be in a dorm, right?" But instead of answering him, she only threw back a face that urged him to get straight to the point. "Okay, okay. Fine." He sighed. "I hereby allow you to stay at a dormitory, provided that Ash-Ash will live with you."

Beca grinned and stood up, clutching Sebastian in a tight hug. Jesse and Sebastian exchanged looks, confused by her sudden hug-attack. They knew the brunette to be so much respectful of her own private space and has not let anyone in for a long time since The Divorce.

This could mean only one thing:

Sebastian had undervalued Beca's intense desire of staying at a dorm. For now, though, he's just glad to have earned a hug from her.


	2. Chapter 1-2: Your New Head Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.) Hey guys! This is the second chapter! Feedback pleaseeee! I desperately need them! Any flaws you can find, any tips, anything... I'd be happy to hear from you. =) SPECIAL THANKS TO TheFlameRose (FFdotNET) FOR BETA-ING THIS CHAPTER.

**Chapter 1-2: Your New Head Bitch**

Chloe and Aubrey sat under the old oak tree in the quad, each in their own little world. Aubrey was fuming, checking her phone every other minute as her impatience got the better of her. Chloe sang softly to herself, much to Aubrey's annoyance, and thought about the brunette from the resort. She had never texted or called, but maybe that was just because she had been busy or something.

"We haven't even officially met them yet and I already have impressions, and let me tell you, they aren't going to like them," Aubrey growled, trying her best not to get pissed off just yet.

"Well, maybe they didn't get the right memo," Chloe offered, being her usual optimistic self.

"Yeah, right!" Aubrey snapped back. The meeting time was supposed to be at 9:00 A.M. sharp, and Chloe and Aubrey had already been waiting for half an hour already and not a soul had shown up, except for a stupid squirrel with a bent tail.

It wasn't Aubrey's cup of tea to doubt herself. She was just so arrogant that she believed she was immune to errors, even the most unimportant ones. Knowing that Chloe wouldn't stop being herself and making positive assumptions in the situation if she didn't act on it, Aubrey reluctantly turned on her phone to re-check the group message she had sent to this year's new recruits last week, which only served to enrage her more when it was crystal clear to her justification.

_"Good morning and congratulations! You've successfully made it through the auditions! There will be a courtesy call on Thursday (next week), at 9:00 A.M. sharp at the quad. We'll explain the mechanics for your Bella initiation then. See you!... ~Aubrey Posen"_

"Come on, Chloe. Let's go back to the Bella Quarters. Maybe they at least had enough sense to go there," Aubrey huffed, getting up and stalking off with Chloe in tow.

Aubrey's heels clicked loudly as she stormed toward the Quarters, steam practically shooting from her ears. How dare they do this to me! She thought murderously, her anger level rising higher and higher as they neared the doors. She shoved them open to find the seven newest recruits sitting silently on the couches. She glared at the girls for a while, staring each and every one down until they bowed their heads until she finally lost her temper.

"I swear to the aca-gods that this is one of the single most disappointing things I have ever seen before in my life! You entered the sacred Bella Quarters without ANYONE'S invitation, let alone permission! And on top of that, you all get a double strike for not showing up at the quad today! Even my _iPhone's_ auto-correct knows that _'quarters'_ and _'quadrangle'_ are defined differently!" She said in an almost dead calm tone, still reining in some of her fiery hot fury.

Just as Aubrey finished her little rant, a slow, sarcastic clapping echoed throughout the Quarters as the sound of clicking heels came closer. A voice so familiar to both Aubrey and Chloe spoke up from behind them.

"Spoken like a true lawyer...I'm impressed."

Aubrey's eyes went wide as soon as the pieces clicked into place in her head as to who it was that had just intruded on their meeting. Slowly, she turned around, swallowing hard.

"Really, Aubrey, I'm impressed," the young woman said, a pearly white smile on her flawless face.

"What the hell are you doing here, Regine?" Aubrey snapped at the woman as she approached them. Her long blonde hair fell to her elbows in curls and her eyes were a familiar shade of lime green that dazzled in the lights. The only difference between her and Aubrey was that she was a couple inches taller, and everyone noticed.

Regine smiled bitingly at her before brushing her fingers patronizingly through Aubrey's hair. "Aww, is that the way you greet your older sister now?"

Aubrey scowled and pulled away from her twining fingers, hating the way she always did something to demean her around other people. "You don't have business here... Not anymore."

"Oh, but I do, little sister," Regine grinned, cruising around the wide-eyed recruits. "You see, Aubrey, Father was so disappointed with your little exhibition at Lincoln Center a couple months ago. What was it he called you?" She asked herself rhetorically, tapping her chin as if she were actually thinking before smirking at her, _"Throw-up Posen?"_

Aubrey was burning holes in Regine's head with her furious glare. "You're lying! He would never say that!"

"You're right; He would never. I was the one who named you that," she winked mockingly as she sat on the couch with the new girls. "You see, Sissy, the Bellas had won four consecutive ICCA championships before your little _'showstopper'_ cut off the record.

"This is supposed to be your second year of holding the Pitch-Pipe, yeah? And I'm making sure that firstly," she raised her index finger, "You will not have one more puke session until Nationals. Secondly," she raised another finger, "The Bellas claim the overall victory again over the Trebles and everyone else. It's a double win for the Posen name." She smiled and sat up straighter, sporting the confidence she had in herself.

Aubrey's fists began shaking in anger as she stared down her older sister. "The Bella code clearly states that no alumnus shall-"

Regine cut her off as she abruptly stood up. "The Bella code approves intervention of any alumnus in case that the honor and poise of the Bellas are in jeopardy." She came a little closer to Aubrey, her patient facade falling away ever so slowly. "The Bellas are already linked to my name, thanks to the year-by-year ICCA sweep they did under my Pitch-Pipe. You saw first-hand how proud and happy Father was of my accomplishments. You also saw his face when you barely made it into the finals," she said, metaphorically punching Aubrey in the stomach when she hit that sore spot, "And then you came home with no trophy," another blow to her gut, "And a chyme stain on your blouse." _KNOCKOUT._

"But don't worry, Sissy. This year will be a smash! It'll be the comeback that everyone in New York will remember! Father will not be disappointed again. That's what I'm doing, little sister: saving your little white ass, making sure it still deserves to spell _Posen._ You should be grateful." She grinned mockingly at Aubrey and began walking off. "For now, all of you, sit back and relax. When I come back in a bit, I'm bringing you your ticket to Nationals," she called over her shoulder just as she closed the door behind her.

Aubrey grunted in frustration, glowering at the door even after Regine had left. Chloe walked over to her to help calm her nerves, because if she got too worked up she might trigger her gag reflex.

"Um, Aubrey?" A small, feminine voice called from behind them. "Hi, I'm Ashley, - one of the new ones."

Chloe beamed at the dark-haired freshman. "Hello, Ashley!"

"I just want to apologize, on behalf of all of us, for not showing up at the quad earlier, like we were supposed to. It's just that, Regine was so intimidating. She was there at this year's audition. She was watching secretly, from the back of the room. And then right after you guys left the theater, she charged into the holding room and introduced herself," Ashley confessed, her eyes tearing up a little.

"WHAT?!" Aubrey shouted, eyes widening as she processed the new information. "That _bitch!_ "

"And then, Regine started rubbing how much stronger her authority was over yours in our faces. She told us that we'll receive an SMS from you some time that week, congratulating us for passing the auditions and inviting us to come over to the quad for the briefing... _'tradition holds it,'_ as Regine put it.

"Some of us new girls were already walking to the quad this morning despite her threats, but she knew just where to block us off and how to coax us into going to the Bella Quarters instead, as she ordered us to do last week. I'm so sorry, Aubrey, Chloe. One of us should've told you ahead of time... I should've told you ahead of time," she added softly, frowning as she looked down. It was like she was imposing humiliation on herself for siding with the wrong person.

Chloe put her hands on Ashley's shoulder, smiling gently to try and comfort her. "Aww, Ashley! That was so noble of you to take the blame for everyone else, but really, it wasn't your fault. Aubrey and I were under Regine's wrath for two whole years before she graduated. We know perfectly well how deadly her ways can be." She smile sweetly at the younger girl. "Is there anything else that we should know?"

Pursing her lips, Ashley slowly nodded. "Um, she did talk to me privately after her little speech at the holding room last week."

Aubrey and Chloe exchanged looks, each wondering what Regine might be up to for doing something like that. "What did she tell you, Ashley?" Aubrey questioned.

Ashley took a deep breath, as if to calm her nerves, before continuing. "She wanted to know how I was related to-"

The front door of the Bella Quarters flew open, startling everyone in the room as loud, arguing voices echoed from it.

"I already told you, I DON'T WANT TO DO IT! Let go of me!" The girl, whose wrist was enveloped in Regine's vice-like grip, yelled.

Everyone was still and silent by the odd duo's entrance scene, each one staring at the front door from their respective stances.

Apparently, the tall blonde had been dragging the poor girl all the way to the Quarters, as the other girl kept on attempting to pull her arm away, desperate to free herself from Regine. "You aren't the boss of me! Let go of my hand, Reno!"

"It's Regine! My name is Regine," the blonde snapped back, anger finally flashing in her green eyes. "Calm down, Tiger, We're here."

The other girl just stood behind her, silently busying herself with the task of wrenching Regine's tanned fingers off of her wrist.

Regine held her chin up as if in triumph before Aubrey and the rest of the girls. "Ladies, let us welcome, another new Bella!" She announced, dragging the girl in front of herself before finally releasing her hold. The girl stood before the Bellas, her eyes wide open and her lips slightly apart in shock. She didn't say anything and instead, stared back into the eyes that were confusingly studying her.

"She is going to lead the Bellas during this academic year... performance-to-performance, competition-to-competition," Regine introduced, casting a smug glance at Aubrey.

"Oh hell no! I am not going to! In fact, I am refusing my _so-called_ right to be a Bella!" The girl shouted back at Regine. "A cappella shit is not my thing, and-,"

"But music is," Regine interrupted, placing a finger on her mouth. "Music is your forte. You are not walking away from this."

The girl shot her eyebrows upward in reaction to Regine's bossy nature. "Well , sorry to disappoint you, but this would be me, walking away." She gestured to the front door and started walking towards it when Regine grabbed her by her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"You are going to help... them... win. I know so." Regine told her with conviction, her eyes flashing.

"Bitch, I'm disgusted by the mere thought of belonging to anything! What makes you think I would be so eager to _help... them... win?_ " The girl spoke, quoting the last three words exactly the way Regine delivered it.

"Because _Gregory, The Shit_ is a Treblemaker now, so this will be your perfect chance to avenge yourself; _to pull him back to mud and show him he ain't got a quarter of your skill,_ " Regine said, casting a pervy smile at the girl, knowing that by her statement and the even more stunned look in the girl's face, she just won the argument.

The girl couldn't be more baffled by the things that Regine knew. "He goes here?" She confusingly asked.

"Obviously, he does," Regine muttered, letting her go when she stopped struggling. "And what would be more satisfying to your ego, than holding the opportunity in your hands to beat his ass up during your entire four-year stay here at Barden, right?"

The other girls inside the Quarters were still stunned into silence by the couches. They were listening curiously to the two girls as they talked to each other. Aubrey looked over at Chloe to see what she was feeling about all these shenanigans, only to realize that the redhead was sporting the most shocked face out of everyone. Aubrey smirked at this, liking the fact that her best friend wanted her to keep their hold on the Pitch-Pipe just as much as she does.

"I tell you this, kid." Regine stepped closer to the girl. "You help these girls win, and you kick _Gregory, The Shit_ off his game. I heard that Bumper considers him as his new gem."

"Gem?! He'll be more like a vertically striped top on an overweight chick! A damn goldbrick!" The girl scoffed.

Regine smirked and chuckled at her. "That's the spirit!"

The tall blonde turned to the door, ready to leave.

Aubrey grabbed the final chance to have her say on the matter. "Regine, you can't do this to me! I am _not_ going to be replaced by some-,"

"Little sis, just get over it. You can thank me after you win the ICCA's." She winked at the younger blonde before exiting the Quarters.

Aubrey's face became a deep shade of red as her fury was once again ignited. She needed to release all the pent up pressure, anger, and frustration. She bolted up the stairs and into the veranda to get some air. She needed time to figure things out. Chloe followed shortly after her with the purpose of making sure Aubrey didn't end up doing something stupid.

The recruits were left with the girl Regine brought in, silence and awkward eye-to-eye contacts being exchanged all over the place.

"So... What happens now?" Stacie, a tall brunette freshman in a scandalously revealing outfit, questioned as she stood up from the couch and crossed her arms.

The odd girl paced up and down the couches, taking deep breaths every now and then. Making up her mind, she faced the recruits with her hands proudly resting on her hips. "Okay then, so I guess I'm a Bella. Let me properly introduce myself," she said calmly, although at the same time, her face displayed a new sense of authority.

"My name is Beca Mitchell, and I'll be your new _Head Bitch._ "

  


* * *

  
Jesse looked at his wrist watch to check the time.

 _3:22 pm,_ it read.

He glanced around searching for a face, only to get disappointed. His untouched cup of mint tea started to cool as he strived to loosen up his reins on his definition of 'promptitude.' Still, Jesse considered the other possibilities: _maybe she sprained her ankle along the way; maybe she just learned that her headphones earned cat scratches all over; maybe she saw David Guetta loitering around the quad; maybe that SMS was meant for another person; maybe her message said 4pm, not 3, and he just misread it; her message said Saturday, not Friday, and maybe he just misread it..._ He paused, coming to a realization, as the last five words echoed in his head, - Maybe he just misread it.

Bug-eyed, Jesse rapidly searched the pockets of his pants for his phone.

_"Jesse Swansonnn! Vyecertt Cafe! 3:00 pm today! DON'T YOU DARE BE LATE! [received at 2:28pm]"_

Jesse clenched his fists upon confirming that he misread nothing.

With one final deep breath, Jesse forced his will to let him get up on his feet and leave. He held his now cold mint tea and started nursing it as he headed for the cafe's glass doors. Successfully making it a foot away from the seat he occupied seconds ago, Jesse felt a hand grab him by the elbow, stopping his pace.

"Jesse!" The voice behind him whisper-yelled.

Immediately realizing who it belonged to, Jesse whined, "Oh finally! You know Beca, you should get yourself a new Rolex, as that one you're wearing apparently is over twenty minutes late!"

"Sorry Jess, I was sort of doing some undercover work from that seat." She gestured to the booth near the cafe's counter with a few pages of newspaper and a cup of iced coffee on it. "I was making sure you weren't followed." Beca squinted and suspiciously wandered her eyes around them, as if scanning the area. She chuckled sheepishly as Jesse glared at her.

"Becs, have you totally lost your mind?! What the hell are you talking about?" Jesse spoke, his voice vibrating with irritation. "And take off those silly glasses!"

Beca removed the _"2009"_ New Year merchandise that she wore for her self-proclaimed _undercover_ work. "I'd like to think of it that way, Jess, but no, I'm completely myself today. It's just that, as it does ninety percent of the time, life is throwing stones at me as its favorite expression of disdain."

The dark blue eyes that were looking to his own communicated sincerity, befuddling Jesse's already confused head even more. _How can she be fooling around and seem serious at the same time?_ Jesse thought. He shook his head. "Re-orient me, Becs. Start from the top." He walked back to his table and settled down as Beca came to sit down across from him.

"Okay," she began while Jesse finally took the effort to sip from his cup. "I knew you'd be early, as you always are, so I occupied that table at exactly 2:40pm, - right after I bought a drink. I grabbed some newspaper from the stand and wore my 2009 glasses for disguise. I was waiting for you to come in, and when you did at 3:00pm, I inspected the perimeter from my seat, looking for hidden cameras, lapel microphones, potential accomplices, hand signals, suspicious exchange of looks, and-"

"Hey, hey, hey. Becs, you're not making any sense. What is all this, huh? Is this a new entry on your bucket list that you haven't told me?" Jesse threw her an estranged look.

She leaned in to the table before signalling for Jesse to do the same. When he did, she positioned her head close beside his before whispering, "Jesse, I think I'm being _Punk'd._ "

Jesse immediately pulled back, his brows furrowed in skepticism of the brunette's claim. He ran out of ideas as to what his best friend was trying to get to. Believing that snapping her out of her fantasy would only make matters more difficult, he tried to play along. "And what makes you think that?"

Beca leaned back to her chair. "I sent a couple of my mixes to _MTV's Give It a Spin_ last month. Maybe they found my stuff awesome, did a background check on me, bla bla bla, decided to get me _Punk'd_ first before featuring me on the show… I don't know."

Jesse stared blank at the girl, having enough of her nonsense. "I had to make up an embarrassing excuse to get out of Treble rehearsals just to hear you daydream?"

"Speaking of which…" Beca immediately stood up, reached across the table, and smashed the palm of her left hand against Jesse's head, ruining the mohawk that he wax-styled his hair after.

"Ow! Beca! What was that for?" Jesse gently rubbed circles on top of his head, trying to alleviate the pain that Beca's hand had caused.

"That one was for not telling me that Gregory, The Shit got into the Trebles!" She growled, returning to her seat. The playful aura she had two seconds ago, which Jesse found so unusual, was gone. By the mention of Gregory, Beca retreated to her usual sense – much to Jesse's confusion.

Jesse shot his brows skyward while his face morphed into a deadpanned expression. "That's it? I get a pain rank of eight for not caring to spill to you that your long-time nemesis Gregory Haull is a Barden student and, oh! A Treble like me!"

Beca raised an eyebrow, which Jesse interpreted as her expression of "Yes, bitch. That would be it."

"Why would I do that, anyway?" Jesse continued. "You would've turned him into an overused punching bag like you almost did at the resort last Sunday if I had told you!" He spoke more when he only got a half-glare response from his best friend. "You and your hunger for retaliation… Why was it so impor-,"

"Rebeca! Ohmigod, thank goodness you're here too!" Ashley pulled a chair and sat at their table, facing Beca.

Jesse froze stunned at the girl's intrusion. "Ash-Ash?"

Ashley shifted shortly from her position to acknowledge his presence. "Hey, Jesse." She shifted her seat favoring Beca's side again, and began talking fast. "Rebeca, I am so sorry about all this. I've been trying to reach you through Jess so I could check on you. Regine talked to me in private on the day of my Bella audition and she asked me about how I am related to you in any way and, well, I told-,"

"Wait, slow down," Beca calmed her cousin. "First of all, I go by _'Beca'_ now, Ash." She chuckled. "And second, how the hell did Regine know about our connection?"

"I don't know, Beca. She just asked right away. Of course, I told her that you're my cousin. I didn't know back then of her hidden agenda. She also asked me for confirmation of you doing mixes, of you also going here at this university, of your bad business with Gregory Haull-,"

"Ashley!" Beca exclaimed, astounded by the revelations. It turned out that Ashley was the missing piece to the puzzle.

"I'm sorry!" Ashley replied. "The whole conversation was like a game of _give-me-honest-answers-or-you'll-die!_ How she knew stuff like that about you, I have no idea of. I regretted giving her any information right after she left. Since then, I've been wanting to check on you; if a _blonde-ster_ had already crossed your path, a-and also to warn you ahead of time."

Jesse took the effort to chime in, "Hey, girls. See, I'm kind of lost, here. Would you please…" He gestured them to elaborate more on the matter.

Beca took a deep breath. "Jess, remember that blondie at the resort who insisted on buying me a lot of whiskey shots?"

Jesse beamed at the memory. "Oh yeah! The gorgeous, tall blonde from the party! Yea, I think she's-,"

Beca slapped Jesse's hand which rested on the table. "Jess! Keep up on me with this!"

"Sorry, Becs." He resorted to drinking his mint tea to keep himself from interrupting again.

"Her name is Regine Posen," Ashley told him.

"And she tried to bribe me to get into the Bellas so I can use my 'musical talents' and lead the team to championships." Beca rolled her eyes.

Jesse spit his tea after hearing her. "You? Beca Mitchell? Doing a cappella?" He cracked up laughing, only to be met by Ashley and Beca's blank faces. "Oh god, Becs, that joke will be the death of me!"

Realizing that the girls started burning holes in his head with their annoyed stares, Jesse went quiet.

Beca narrated how Regine Posen forced her into leading the Bellas. "I was about to go out that door when she mentioned Gregory, The Shit. And take note, she addressed him as _Gregory, The Shit;_ not Greg, not Haull, but by the alias I gave that little shit. That wasn't what stopped me completely, though. Regine quoted my famous motto, too: _to pull him back-,_ "

 _"Back to mud and show him he ain't got a quarter of your skill,"_ Jesse finished off the statement.

Beca simply nodded as she took a deep breath.

Ashley took the chance to apologize sincerely to Beca, "Beca, I'm really sorry. Regine got that info from me. I'm so sorry."

Beca glared at her cousin. "Ash-Ash, you owe me one."

"Okay." Ashley looked down, embarrassed with herself.

Beca, Jesse, and Ashley had known Gregory Haull since middle school. A standard bully, Gregory had always picked on the trio as they ate together at lunch or whenever they chilled out after classes listening to Beca's _Walkman._ Beca has always been the one to put up a fight against the bully, especially whenever Ashley ended up in tears because of him. When Jesse transferred to another school before ninth grade, Beca and Ashley continued sticking up for each other. But then Ashley had to move to another state because her mom re-married, leaving Beca to spend the remaining three years of high school completely alone. Well, technically, she wasn't _completely_ left alone; Gregory Haull remained as Beca's favourite pet peeve about school until senior year.

Ashley glanced at her watch, eyes widening when she saw the time. "Oh gosh! Beca, we better get going. Aubrey's starting the orientation and the tour of the Quarters in about ten minutes."

"Ash, I'm the Head Bitch!" Beca arrogantly reminded her, a smug smirk on her face. "You guys listen to me, from here on out."

Ashley's eyes communicated her fear and worries. "But Beca, Aubrey denied it in front of us yesterday after you left the Quarters. I've nothing against you being Head Bitch, but you need to make it official with her."

"I can do that." Beca smirked. "No one steps on Beca Mitchell."

"Becs, you're actually caving in to Regine's stratagem?" Jesse chimed in, his brow creased in confusion.

"Jess, it's not a stratagem; it's an opportunity – for me. I'm one of the Bellas now. If _Gregory, The Shit_ is your new gem, then I am theirs," Beca said. "I'll have my sweet payback, at long last. Now, if you'll excuse me," Beca stood up from her seat. "I have to call Jackson for the info on my next gig," she said as she began walking away. Giving Jesse one last little wave, Ashley got up and followed her.


	3. Chapter 1-3: Pocketful of Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.) People have been leaving me messages about why I delay chapter posts. It's because I re-read every chapter and ponder over points that I wanna edit before I re-post. =) Leave reviews and I'll love you forever. SPECIAL THANKS TO TheFlameRose FOR BETA-ING THIS CHAPTER!

** Chapter 1-3: Pocketful of Shit **

  
Chloe took off running to the Bella Quarters as soon as her Oncology professor dismissed the class for the rest of the day. For two hours straight her phone buzzed in her pocket, making her last class of the day much less enjoyable than it normally was.

_"Chloe! Get to the Quarters right now! Emergency Bella meeting! ~ Aubrey Posen"_

_"Emergency Bella meeting at the Quarters... I'll start it exactly at 3:45pm. ~ Aubrey Posen [group message]"_

_"Chlo! Where are you? Help me out here! ~ Aubrey Posen"_

_"Chloooooooooooo! =(((( Co-capt? =D Please? :3 ~ Aubrey Posen"_

A few more messages like those, and a swarm of missed calls overloaded Chloe's phone.

"Repeating letters, smileys, emoticons? Aubrey, really?" Chloe mumbled under her breath in disbelief. As her polar opposite, Aubrey was never keen of informal texting… Not unless she was growing desperate of wheedling the redhead. As for what Aubrey might be up to, Chloe had no clue.

Her feet were aching as she made her way out of the building, every once in a while blurting out an, "Oops! Sorry," to the annoyed students she bumped into as she hurried past all the busy college kids crowding up the corridors. For whatever it is that Aubrey wants, she'll be damned if she doesn't get there in time. Already panting, Chloe heaved a heavy sigh as the multi-level Bella Quarters came in sight from a distance. _Just... a few... more... steps,_ she motivated herself.

Chloe has always admired the way the Quarters flickered in colors of baby pink and peach from the outside. She must admit though, it could really use a makeover; a transformation to a more modern interior design would give it a lot of edge from the other houses. The program Chloe's enrolled in would shrink her to the stereotype of nerds and science geeks, but other than her brain and her big MD dreams, her vast sense of artistry and creativity bring out the best in her.

Right. Even at the breaking point of exhaustion, Chloe had managed to ponder about how the porch should be changed to a higher class of wood, how (again) the colors should speak more of the Bellas, how the lawn should be friendlier to guests... don't get her started on what needs to be modified on the inside of the mansion. _Mansion._ Right. Technically speaking, though devalued as _'quarters,'_ it already qualifies as a mansion. In terms of land area and main purpose, the Bella Quarters can uphold its right to be named as a large place of dwelling.

Since Aubrey and her had joined the Bellas on their freshman year, Chloe had gradually dropped in entries of suggestions into her box of _stuff-that's-going-to-change-when-the-time-comes,_ and when Aubrey became captain last year, she couldn't be more eager to make those metamorphosis ideas turn into reality. She already had a notebook organized into weekly schedules of renovation, and had prepared a presentation of her proposal by the beginning of Aubrey's term as Captain.

But, well, Aubrey was Aubrey. Thus, her ideas remained _ideas._

Handpicked by Aubrey herself as co-captain, Chloe tried to start some of the changes herself little by little, - using her supposed authority. The farthest she got to, was the re-grouting of the tiles at the garden, for Aubrey and her tight reins on whatever tradition holds, tarried.

When Chloe opened the front door of the Quarters, a glaring Aubrey welcomed her; like a bull waiting for its timely attack, the blonde folded her arms in front of Chloe, giving all her impatience on her stare. Chloe scanned the tan, leather couches that rested at the center of the foyer, ending up feeling glad that none of the new ones (including Beca) had gone earlier than she did.

"Well, look at that," Chloe said, still panting. "Looks like I'm an early bird!"

Aubrey rolled her eyes as she grabbed the redhead's hand and led her to sit on the couches. "Operation: Impeachment is on," She told Chloe.

"Bree, what are you talking about?"

"I have the Pitch-Pipe and it will remain mine until our senior year ends… Until my term as Captain ends." Aubrey said, determined in her mission. Before she could shed more light on the subject, the front door flew open, revealing the new Bellas rushing in as one group.

Aubrey and Chloe stood and gestured for the girls to settle down so that they could start. Being the very definition of promptitude, Aubrey started on the accounts of the meeting as soon as they had made themselves comfortable in their seats. The conference hadn't even reached the ten-minute mark when the front door busted open once more, interrupting Aubrey in her endless and pointless introduction. By the very sound of it opening aggressively, Chloe sighed. "This is why the couches shouldn't be right next to the gigantic main door in the foyer," Chloe whispered to herself.

The swiping motion of the door uncloaked the interruption as none other than: Beca. "Okay, maybe the couches should stay at the foyer," Chloe thought to herself, apparently beaming at the sight of Beca.

"Ashley!" Beca called out. Ignoring the clumping that the girls had formed in support of Aubrey's agenda, Beca charged right past Aubrey and Chloe and towards her cousin, who sat dumbfounded beside Stacie and Jessica (another new Bella). "Ash-Ash! Thank goodness you're here. I forgot to ask you about some-,"

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey called Beca's attention.

"Aca-fuck off," Beca replied in her intention of a harmless jest. She breathed in, preparing to continue her conversation with Ashley when the tall blonde pulled her away by her arm, her deep blue eyes ending up meeting Aubrey's flashy green ones.

"Okay, now I'm going to mean it: aca-fuck off!" Beca said, her tone raising on a certain level of seriousness.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes. "I am still the Bella Captain. You got that, little dog?" She retorted.

Beca did what she's best at: rolling her eyes. "I prefer the title _'little bitch,'_ but that'll do too." This didn't go over well with Aubrey.

The girls fought verbally over authority while the rest of the Bellas (including Chloe, who decided to sit alongside the newbies) waited for World War 3 to resolve by itself. They sat still at the couches, each engaging in a distracting side-activity by themselves.

Stacie spent the minutes fondling her nails, tracing tracks along the edges as to where she thinks a nail file should run on back and forth. Jessica looked anywhere but them as she gazed around the quarters. From the dusty ceiling and the faded floral paintings on the walls, to the cobwebs settling around the chandelier that hang at the foyer, she smiled at the thought of _'what it might have looked like back in time.'_ Ashley was leaning in, her face buried in her hands as her expression of "Oh no Beca, not again." Another new recruit, Cynthia Rose, had her chin resting on the palms of her hands, her elbows propped upon her knees. She threw occasional smirks, apparently taking pleasure in watching Aubrey and Beca as they played paintball of offensive remarks.

 _And Chloe…_ Oh Chloe was doing pretty much as Cynthia Rose, - staring ahead and silently taking pleasure. Unlike the African-American freshman though, Chloe wasn't in it for the mere entertainment. Her electric blue eyes stared at the arguing girls, focusing particularly on the short girl who Aubrey kept trying to dominate over. At first, the redhead was actually listening to their arguments, keeping track of where the conversation (or game of insulting, as she would loosely translate it to) led to, but after a minute or two, she found herself just staring at them - the dialogue growing inaudible in her head, and their body gestures throwing in slow motion.

 _But are you really just, - staring?_ The voice in Chloe's head questioned her.

Aubrey flashed like burning Hades again through Chloe's eyes, while the brunette, - she was loaded with sparkles in the redhead's sight. The perfect shade of her auburn hair, which glowed in a crisp palette of brown and bronze, mesmerized Chloe. The way it dangled freely, the layered tips ending just past Beca's shoulders, the way it waved outward and vaguely in big semi-curls, it all held Chloe captured under a spell.

Beca Mitchell's pale white skin seemed to belong to that of an anemic person (as Chloe compared so), but the thick eyeliner that fenced the dark blue eyes, the black nail polish, the conch, helix and industrial piercings, and the fairly red lipstick all compensated for it. This magnificence is what Chloe sees behind Beca's sarcasm and wit.

And for the record, _she likes what she sees._

With that quick realization, Chloe answered the internal voice, "No, not just staring. It is way more than that," She thought to herself. "It's admiration."

"Chloe and I have been Bellas for three years now. Your fucking rookie ass shouldn't have any administrative function!" Aubrey yelled at Beca, practically foaming at the mouth. With that remark, Chloe snapped out of her trance. She shook her head trying to catch up on the two arguing girls. She rolled her eyes upon realizing that nothing changed since she slipped off tracking along with their conversation; everything was still about dominance.

"Now if you'll excuse me, Legally Blonde, I'd like to privately speak with Ashley," Beca sardonically told Aubrey before walking to the couches to take hold of Ashley's wrist.

As Beca dragged Ashley towards the front door, Aubrey mockingly interrupted them. "And you think you even have a pint of the right to steal away that Bella from me, huh?"

Beca didn't turn to face the blonde, and instead continued on walking to the door. "Uh-huh. Ashley is my cousin." She turned the knob and swung the door open before finally facing Aubrey. "Father side, by the way." After casting a deriding wink at the tall blonde, Beca, together with her cousin, disappeared from the foyer.

With the main door slamming shut, Aubrey snorted and walked out without saying a word. It was a tough verbal fight with Beca. The last time she had such intense reasoning with anyone was back in high school, - during an inter-level debate, by which Aubrey lost her famous _head-held-up-high_ finesse against a freely competitive wit. Of course, Aubrey won with her argument. The freshman she intimidated though, ended up emotionally traumatized. And now, the tall blonde locked herself upstairs in her room, afraid to lose what was of her self-control.

The Bellas that were left in the foyer were all wide-eyed at the new revelation. Who would have known Ashley was Beca's cousin. The dark-haired girl hadn't mentioned having anything to do with Beca to anyone. Deciding it was time to kill the awkward silence in the atmosphere, Chloe got up from the couch and stood before the freshmen.

"Okay. Well, that was enough action for today," Chloe said. "Let's just have a tour of the Quarters, shall we?" She threw a sweet smile, hoping to whip the other girls' moods around.  


* * *

  
"Beca, what is it?" Ashley inquired as they settled at the porch.

The brunette breathed deeply before starting to talk. "First of all, I'm sorry, for the little show back there, Ash." Being a few inches shorter than her cousin, Beca raised her sight to meet Ashley's. "I forgot to ask, when we were at Vyecertt earlier, about dorm-living."

Ashley furrowed her brows in confusion. "Dorm-living? Wait, you're over at Uncle Seb's still? Beca that's like… thirty minutes away from Barden!"

"Forty, actually." Beca corrected. "Anyway, it won't be long. Dad will only allow me to live in campus if I'll be with someone who he can trust to watch over me. And, you'll watch over me, right?" Beca wore a big bright smile in an attempt of coaxing her cousin. "I had your ass all throughout middle school."

Beca raised her left hand, with her index and middle fingers crossed together. _"Heyya mah sistah!"_ She greeted enthusiastically, making the taller girl grunt in vexation.

Back in middle school, it was Ashley's favorite expression (much to Beca's annoyance). She used it on everybody, regardless of the gender.

With her brows still on the curves of uncertainty, she spoke, "Sure thing, dear cousin-slash-savior-of-my-ass. I'll watch over you, if that's what Uncle Seb wants."

"Great!" Beca replied instantly. "Where's your dorm? I think Jesse told me once that you're over at Baker Hall. What's your room number? Do you have windows? Is your bathroom spacious? I'll have my own desk, right?"

"Slow down there, chap!" Ashley interrupted, her brows raised. "If Uncle Seb wants us to be under one roof, you can't take my old Baker Hall room alone." She chuckled.

"Old? Alone?" Beca asked in bafflement. "What?!"

Ashley slapped a hand to her forehead in disbelief. "Beca, this is why you should attend Bella meetings, orientations, and briefing sessions. You haven't seen the rest of the Quarters aside from the foyer area, have you?"

Beca shook her head.

"It has rooms on the second floor. All Bellas are required to reside in the Quarters. I left Baker Hall this morning. My stuff are already settled upstairs. Don't worry though; it's a rule, _not tradition._ " Ashley perfectly knew how her cousin is a big fan of having things her way, so how different is rule from tradition, anyway?

Well, rules are orders imposed upon; tradition is an established pattern of behavior. If Beca opposes rules, that would be just her rebellious spirit. If it's tradition she doesn't follow, she's being her true self, - one who's keen of shaking things up, one who's fond of spicing up the old ways. And unlike most teenagers, Beca leans more on the tradition-breaker side rather than the mutinous camp.

"Beca, you said it yourself, - you're the new Head Bitch… Can't be Head Bitch without being a Bella, right?" She started walking backwards, going near the front door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go back inside to know the details of our Bella initiation rites." She turned to reach for the door knob.

"Live here? With all the Bellas? You mean like a sorority house?!" Beca toned up her voice in disbelief. Just as she thought belonging to an all-girl a cappella group couldn't get more girly, here came another feature from the package.

Ashley raised her right hand, with her index and middle fingers crossed together. _"Latah mah sistah!"_ She derided back before returning inside the Quarters.

Beca was dumbfounded, her mouth gaping open unattractively for quite some time. She had imagined living in campus - getting her own personal space away from her father and Sheila, being able to get up from bed thirty minutes before class starts, being able to attend more parties and visit DJ clubs late at night, but she never expected it to be in any way near to living with a bunch of girls, especially one where a certain green-eyed blonde also resides in.

 _"There's no way in hell that I am living in this-this mansion,"_ She said to herself.

Later that night, Beca decided to go to a club near campus to clear her head. Earlier this afternoon, she was decisive about using the Bellas as her means of getting back at Haull, but right after knowing that the package included living in a mansion together with girls that she doesn't jive along well (in personality and in interest), she began to consider dropping her revenge mission. She had waited so long for the opportunity to humiliate Haull and now that the time came, something took a tight grip at her heel, an annoying hindrance to her attack. Beca loathes having to interact with people; that's just who she is.

Beca sat at the drinks section and was glad that McDowell was on duty. She first met the twenty year old bartender a few months ago while she was hovering over DJ concerts that held mobile bars. As Beca had her first sip of her _Bourbon Lancer,_ she saw Gregory Haull near the foot of the stage talking to some other guys. Haull had managed to set his eyes over to Beca's direction, making the brunette throw a flaring glare back at him. Still looking over at the distance, Beca could trace a smirk coming out of Haull's face before he immediately climbed up the empty stage.

The club was famous for not having tenured DJ's that will keep the crowd going every Friday. The stage has the equipment all set up for use, and the lights and laser beams are all at work, but the DJ's spot is always vacant. The management decided on this to help aspiring DJ's practice and show off. Usually, a certain gold-haired, middle-aged guy monopolies the equipment, - the reason Beca had not yet tried her own skills upstage, but tonight it was empty… well, before Haull got up to it and hang the headphones around his neck.

"Oh, the little boy wants to show off in front of the other kid at the playground, huh? Let's see you play David while I'll be Goliath. This will be fun." Beca scoffed as Haull started out a beat. The brunette took pure entertainment of critiquing every flaw she found on Haull's mix. "Wrong tempo… Bass kicks way too overpowering… Awful use of reverse snare… Lacks floor tom pumps… Flanger too loud… Awkward incorporation of the chorus… Too high sound frequency… No other bass samplers… Over-loop beats too long."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head when Haull received an enthusiastic applause after his set. She watched him as he made his way down from the stage. A couple of other guys mobbed him, apparently singing his praises.

"Idiot ears," Beca muttered. Her eyes widened when two of those idiot ears belonged to a guy so familiar to her: Luke Jackson. "Oh no." Beca got up from her place and sprinted her way to Jackson, who she saw was shaking hands with Haull. As she reached Jackson, Haull was gone; apparently, they were done talking.

The athletic-bodied 25-year-old party organiser beamed at seeing the DJ. "Beca! I didn't notice you around earlier! Listen, I'm cancelling the first three from the gigs I promised you. I mean, they're not cancelled. I uh, just want to give my new guy a shot." The guy looked down as he saw the disappointment in Beca's eyes. "Beca I'm so sorry, I-,"

"No, it's okay. Totally okay," she stopped him.

"Okay, then! See you around!" Jackson walked off as he said, "Hey Greg! Wait up!"

Beca stood still. "Did Haull just fucking steal half of my gigs?" She pondered. "So that was why he got up the stage when he looked over to me! Jackson and his guys sat behind me!" She said to herself as she saw Jackson retreating to sit at a table near the drinks section.

"Haull wasn't showing off to me; he was trying to grab some attention from Luke Jackson!" Beca felt her fists clenching as the urge to break Haull's nose started accelerating, but she realized that physically damaging him wouldn't get her anywhere. "Gregory Haull, you little shit," she muttered before walking out the club.

"I'll deal with what I have to deal with. Your ass will be begging me for mercy by Nationals," Beca said, now fully determined in leading the Bellas. "You just wait, Haull. You just fucking wait."  


* * *

  
Tranquility ruled the halls of the Bella Quarters as the grandfather clock that stood at the living room ticked 6am. The birds that were a frequent visit to the garden chirped in soft harmony, filling in the silence as the girls slept soundly in their beds. It was a lazy Saturday morning; alarms don't go off yet 'till around ten. The nine women in deep slumber took time in re-energizing, as Friday night defined a lot of meanings for each of them: girls' night out, thesis planning, group study, party crashing… it was that time of the week when their activities of choice spelled _freedom._ Barden University was kind to go easy on Saturday classes for the first semester, rewarding the students full weekend treats. Even Aubrey didn't make the effort of rising up early and working on their ICCA piece. Everyone seemed to respect the sanctity of a Saturday morning… well _except for one._

A chain of sharp whistling sounds echoed throughout the Quarters. The whistle blew non-stop, - the highest amplitude travelling from the foyer to the corridors at the second floor. It buried the ticking of the grandfather clock into muteness, and cruelly drove the birds away from the shades of the trees around. Combined with merciless pounding on the wooden bedroom doors, the disturbance swept everyone away from dreamland, sucking each mind back into actuality, like a black hole forcibly budging everything from place. The half smiles that decorated the faces of the girls while they slept grew into meeting brows, wrinkled noses, and grinding teeth. Sleep shades were put off duty as the nuisance welcomed everyone back to reality.

Following the irritating whistle was the Easy A soundtrack on full-volume shuffle, debuting with Natasha Bedingfield's hit, _Pocketful of Sunshine._ The Quarters vibrated along the bass of the song as the surround sound system distributed the ear-splitting volume from corner to corner.

The five bedrooms flushed empty in an instant as each Bella rushed out from their sheets and out into the corridors to seek the very source of the noise.

"Aubrey, what is this?!" Chloe yelled over to the blonde as they met along the hallway.

"No idea! But we'll find out!" Aubrey shouted back, directing her steps to the living room. The rest of the girls followed behind her, coincidentally paired according to bedroom assignment: Stacie just behind Aubrey, Ashley with Cynthia Rose, Jessica with Denise, Fat Amy with Lilly, and Chloe closing the column by herself.

As they descended the staircase, they were greeted by the familiar piercings and chocolate locks which were behaved tight in a ponytail. The girl held out the stereo remote to finally shift the volume into a comfortable level.

"Good morning ladies!" Beca beamed at the slovenly _just-woke-up_ locks at her sight.

"Beca, are you fucking kidding me? It's Saturday morning!" Aubrey yelled over to the freshman. "The last thing anybody in this house wanted was to get disturbed by a rape-whistle and intense knocking!"

"Chillax, Aubrey!" Beca replied with a confident smile, much opposed to her usual angry look every time she argued with the blonde. "As your new Head Bitch, I've got loads of plans for today, and the Saturday after this, and the Saturday after that Saturday… I am designating Saturday mornings as cardio sessions, and boot camp, then at the afternoons, we'll train your vocals."

The nine girls before her stood in silence, apparently not accepting her agenda. Natasha Bedingfield's song continued on resounding, the lyrics being both the definition and the irony of the present situation.

 _I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine._  
I got a love and I know that it's all mine, oh. Ohhh.  
Do what you want but you're never gonna break me.  
Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me, no. Ohhh.

For the awakened Bellas, the sunshine was out of sight. Who keeps a smile after waking up horribly, right? But Beca Mitchell wasn't the one to back down on her ways. She was finally claiming territory in front of Aubrey. Like a wolf howling high in the night as it announces its glory over the area, Beca was at long last embracing her task – she was letting everyone know of her place in the Bellas.

"Why don't you girls take a seat while I explain our schedule for today?" Beca politely asked the girls.

Aubrey, with her arms crossed, refused the offer. "No! Say it fast, then go out of this house!"

The rest of the Bellas headed for the couches at the foyer, ignoring Aubrey's pride. Beca smirked at this before gently taking Aubrey's hand - leading her to the couches. Caught off guard, the blonde decided to let it pass and sit along.

"Okay, first matter: Bella initiation rites," Beca began.

"Thank goodness for some sense in you!" Aubrey exclaimed as soon as Beca finished her statement. "And I assume you know nothing of it, so I'll do you a favor by being the one to explain this very significant subject instead." She cast a deriding smile as she positioned herself ready to take the center spot.

The brunette standing before them raised a hand, signalling for Aubrey to pass on the effort. "Petrificus Totalis!"

Baffled, the lime green eyes narrowed as Aubrey's sense tried to process what Beca just said. "What, are you some kind of Romanian-Finnish linguist now?" She scoffed.

Beca mockingly threw a half-smirk. "You don't read fiction, do you?" She chuckled.

Chloe giggled even louder at this, grabbing attention from everyone, most especially Aubrey. Upon realizing that her best friend was already throwing hammers at her through her furious stare, she decided to jump in. "It's a total-body petrification spell from _Harry Potter,_ Aubrey, which loosely translates to _'Shut up and behave'._ " The redhead turned to face Beca. "It's _Totalus,_ by the way… not _Totalis._ " She sweetly grinned at the brunette, her bright blue eyes sharing humor with Beca's deep ocean ones.

"Now Aubrey, do we have an agreement?" Beca addressed the now tight-lipped blonde. When Aubrey didn't directly respond to it, the brunette continued on the accounts of the briefing. "Okay back to your initiation rites," she began.

 _"Harana."_ Beca started hovering around the foyer as she spoke. "Now does anybody in this house know about this word? _Harana?_ "

Frowns showed up as the girls acted quizzically. Aubrey, being a big fan of languages, spoke up, "Sounds Asian to me."

"Indeed. Southeast Asian, in particular." Beca paused on her pace as she reached the original spot she stood at: center stage before the couches. "Your Bella initiation would play along the concept of _Harana…_ an old Filipino tradition where the bachelor sings a song of love dedicated to the girl he likes. He does so as he stands in front of her house in the evening. It's still practiced by the romantic lads nowadays, but well, not as much as the boys did back in time."

"You want us to sing a song to the person we like?" Cynthia Rose asked in confusion.

Beca's half-smirk painted across her face, her eyes mirroring an obvious ulterior motive that seemed to be resting in her head – yet to be spoken out. "But that would be too easy for you, wouldn't it? Plus, it'll be so identical to that oriental culture." She folded her arms. "Yes, you will be singing to someone. But no, not to the person that you like. As kids of the west, we'll add some modern spice into it. For your initiation, you will go in trios, - singing to any person that you loathe, - any person whose funeral will be your celebratory party."

Forgetting Beca's tight reins on her, Aubrey busted in, "Then, what? You want me and Chloe to judge?"

"What? No! Of course not!" Beca disagreed. Aubrey heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing it.

"You and Chloe will do the _Harana_ assignment, as well. No exceptions." Beca clarified. Before the blonde could protest a sound, Beca continued, "If you look up the original _Harana,_ the bachelor always carry along some friends to back him up – either by second voices or by guitar, but since we are an a cappella group, no musical instruments, of course. Plus, we're not talking about one song here. The Bellas should be flipping on a new leaf. It should be a mash-up of at least two songs."

Ashley sheepishly raised a hand to ask if they were allowed the freedom of choosing their own group mates, - something Beca approved of.

The brunette also clarified that she defined a mash-up as a new mix formed from intertwined songs and had forbidden the girls to end up simply singing one song after the other.

Aubrey finally had the guts to speak her mind. "Beca! It's not called an _initiation_ for nothing. Chloe and I are so not doing this shit of yours. We've been wearing the honorary stamp of being Bellas since we were freshmen."

"Yeah, and you'll be stamped with a new one that says _'ex-Bella'_ if you skip on this," Beca threatened. "I wonder how poor Aubrey Posen would manage seeing greater disappointment in her father's eyes. Moreover, I wonder how she would take the fury that is Regine Posen." She gave the blonde a wry smile, taking pleasure in verbally attacking her. "Although, I'm quite not sure which one's worse for you." She grinned.

"Oh well, girls! I'll be expecting the video footages of your _Hate-Haranas_ by next Saturday. The recipient of the mash-up should be given enough attention in the video." Beca walked over to the stereo to kill the music. Apparently, she had accidentally put Bedingfield's song on repeat.

"Oh and Bellas?" Beca cut off in perfect timing, - stopping the girls from completely dispersing. "The boot camp and vocal strengthening will have to début next Saturday as well. We'll have a special activity for today," she said while she fixed the CD into its case.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Another pocketful of shit from you, dear Head Bitch?" She scoffed.

Beca beamed upon hearing her words. Though half-meant, Aubrey's recognition of her as Head Bitch made her morning. "Funny term, Aubrey."

The brunette turned to face the girls. "For now, go get that sweet Saturday morning bubble bath. I ordered _Sbarro_ delivery for your breakfast." She glanced at her wrist watch. "It should arrive within the next hour. Don't worry I'll have it ready at the dining table by the time you all finish composing yourselves."

In a blink, Beca was gone. For what she's up to, no one knew. The rest of the Bellas rose to their rooms, preparing for the day. At long last, everyone seemed to be accepting Beca's ways. They were unlikable, but tolerable. For two whole hours, the girls were busy upstairs dressing up and fustigating about how Beca was such a despicable human being.

Chloe was out of this kind of conversation as she had the room all by herself. Beca's idea of initiation was a bit uncool to her, considering that they'll be singing hate songs in public, but she saw it in another angle: she saw it as a challenging task designed for them to learn and have fun. As a growing habit of hers, she was admiring Beca the whole time she spoke. When their eyes shared the humor of Aubrey's _Harry Potter_ illiteracy, Chloe felt something strike her chest, - not like an aura of impending doom, but something like a flick to her heart resulting from the unexpected tachycardia. When they shared that connection, Chloe remembered the night at the resort, - how her mood lightened up when Beca bought her a drink, how she beamed at her comical mannerism, how she fell head over heels for those deep blue orbs, how her mysteriousness held her by the neck. With Beca's every appearance, Chloe felt herself getting more and more interested.

The Beca she met at the resort doesn't seem to fit alike to the Beca who's now their Head Bitch. There couldn't be two Beca Mitchell's, right? Chloe lived by the wise words that say how everyone has a story to tell, and Beca's is a cross fire of mixed signals, - one clue at the surface serving as a stratagem as it led to another one. This total paradox lured Chloe a lot closer. What is Beca's story?

 _Well, I guess that's for me to find out,_ Chloe thought again to herself.


	4. Chapter 1-4: Impending Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.) Leave reviews, please! =D SPECIAL THANKS TO TheFlameRose (Fanfictiondotnet) FOR BETA-ING THIS CHAPTER!

**Chapter 1-4: Impending Disaster**

"Is Beca really that tough?" Cynthia Rose asked in disbelief, her hands in the middle of styling her hair sideways as she sat in front of their vanity mirror.

Ashley laid flat on her bed she stared up at the ceiling, answering as honestly as she could. "Most of the time, yes. Everyone hates her because of that attitude of hers." She rolled onto her stomach and sighed. "Little do any of them know that it's only a part of who my cousin really is... Like a slice of pizza - one small part of the whole," she added, mentally complimenting herself on the fitting metaphor.

Cynthia Rose stopped what she was doing and looked inquiringly at her roommate. "Oh yeah? Then what's the _real_ Beca like?" She asked, her curiosity peaking.

As if she had been waiting for the darker girl to ask, Ashley immediately started blurting out a series of adjectives, enumerating everything she knew about her cousin since back in the day. "She's kind. Playful. Caring. _Super_ caring. Sweet. Smart. Carefree. Talented. _Very_ talented."

"Yeah, I get that your cousin's really talented. Since, you know, she was handpicked by Regine Posen and all, right?"

Ashley smiled at Cynthia Rose's remark. She had always been impressed by Beca's amazing skills, whether it be with music or other things. "Yeah… Too bad nobody looks beyond what's on the surface."

"So, you're saying that she poses behind a mask?" Cynthia questioned, her eyebrows rising in disbelief.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. But, she has her reasons for doing the things she does." Ashley scooted over to sit at the edge of her bed, facing Cynthia Rose. "Look, if you're going to try to uncover Beca's other side, I'm not the girl for the job. It's just not my story to tell."

Cynthia Rose chuckled shortly. "No, I just thought… Well, I just thought it was completely impossible for a person to be that bitchy for no reason. Guess I was right, then."

A kind grin bloomed on Ashley's face as she nodded in agreement.

"Come on, Roomie," Cynthia Rose stood up, adjusting her hair one last time before holding out her hand. "Let's go check on Denise and Jessica."

Ashley accepted her invitation graciously and let the bigger girl help her to her feet. She grabbed her silver wool cardigan before exiting the room, glad that now someone else kind of understood Beca other than her.  


* * *

  
"I swear I am going to cut that contemptible midget's fucking head off!" Aubrey, still in her bathrobe, ranted to her fellow Bella as she angrily dried her gold locks with a towel.

Stacie Conrad rolled her eyes for what it seemed like the twelfth time that day. "Aubrey, all you do is whine about Beca, - that's all you've ever done. You think up all these bizarre strategies to murder the girl, and that's it! You know, if you actually start looking around for a pair of scissors instead of just 'swearing to God' to cut off Beca's head, you'd find yourself moving forward."

"Scissors? I was thinking a cudgel! Why are you opting for the less gruesome way of flicking out the tick? Are you a coward?" Aubrey remarked, her tone pretty serious.

"That's all you heard from what I said?!" Stacie replied in disbelief. "I'm on your team here, Aubrey. I despise that midget just as much as everyone else does. Actually if I spot Beca along the highway and I'm coincidentally wearing my high stilettos, I'd pull over and poke her with the heel of my shoe!"

Aubrey cracked out a giggle. "Bizarre. Now, how different are you from me?" She scoffed.

Stacie, being an inch taller than her roommate, narrowed her eyes – meeting the blonde's sight, "I thought I heard about Aubrey Posen being a sturdy warrior. Suddenly, when it comes to Beca, why are you so limited?" She retorted.

"You heard that stupid bitch. She's got my sister. That's a metaphor for handcuffing me. So, don't get too surprised if I'm supressed to just whining about it."

Just as Aubrey finished her sentence, the door flew open without warning, - revealing Chloe. Aubrey crossed her arms across her torso in respect of privacy as she got startled by the action. "Geez, Chlo! There's this little thing called 'knocking' where you bump your knuckles to someone's door, asking permission to get in!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I've seen your tits. Why the fake conservative act?" She derided before acknowledging the presence of Aubrey's roommate. "Hi, Stace!" The redhead regretted blurting out the nickname she decided on as soon as she spoke it. "Wait, is it okay that I called you Stace?"

The tall brunette chuckled. "Of course. It's my legit nickname, anyway. You have to let me call you 'Chlo', though."

Chloe approved of it before turning back to her best friend. "Can you explain why you're still in your robe, Bree?! It's been over two hours!"

Aubrey was about to elaborate but Stacie did the effort quicker. "Two hours of complaining about Beca Mitchell, that is." The redhead needed no more explaining as soon as she got the brunette's statement. Ranting Aubrey can be a heavy-duty ship anchor.

Chloe relayed to the blonde that she had recruited Ashley to be in their trio, - much to Aubrey's dismay.

"But I was already planning on having Stacie with us!" Aubrey whined.

"Aub, it's okay. I already promised Denise and Lilly, anyway." Stacie threw a smile at her roommate before exiting their room.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Aubrey regained her usual arguing self. "What's gotten into you when you picked Beca's cousin?! Foul move, Beale! Foul move."

"Beale? Where did that come from?" Chloe joked.

When Aubrey didn't shoot back like she expected her to, Chloe inquired, "Oh, you're actually waiting for an answer now?" She chuckled. "I just think Ashley's cool, that's all," she lied easily.

Aubrey shot an eyebrow skyward, doubting the redhead. "We've been good friends for many years now. I know when you're hiding something; your hair gets redder. And right now? It's on fire. Cards on the table, Chlo! Or I'll have to juice it out from you."

"Beca's cousin is… um… a good kid. She's… she's…" Chloe bit her lip as she strived hard on making up words.

"A-ha!" Aubrey stood and shot a finger to Chloe. "Stuttering plus lip-biting! You're busted! Speak up, Pinocchio!"

Chloe started running her fingers nervously along the hem of her shirt. She didn't want to break the lie but she grew frustrated as Aubrey will eventually find out sooner or later.

"You like Beca, don't you?" Aubrey spoke low, her eyes becoming a darker shade of green.

"What? No, I was-," Chloe said but was immediately cut off by the blonde. Too soon, Aubrey.

"You like her! You like Beca! That's why you invited Ashley in, - so you could sneak your way in to her cousin!"

Chloe stayed silent, her cheeks painted in a deep shade of red. "Was I too obvious?" She joked in defeat. That was indeed her idea from the start: to use Ashley to get closer to Beca.

Aubrey started giving Chloe a sermon for liking the girl she so wanted to throw off a cliff. The thing that had stopped her from completely exploding was the memo that their Sbarrobreakfast awaited. Upon realizing this, Aubrey got dressed in a jiffy and went straight to the dining area with Chloe in tow.

The girls occupied the seats at the circular dining table that rest at the ground level of the Quarters. They feasted on the Italian cuisine, which was basically dominated by tomato-based dishes and vegetable salad.

Beca watched as the girls were having their first meal of the day. When her eyes fell on Chloe, something warmed inside her, and her narrowed gaze became nosily fixed at the redhead's direction. "Is there, in any way, that we have… met before, miss?"

As soon as Beca uttered her curiosity, Aubrey and Chloe exchanged looks. The redhead could decipher the message of Aubrey's smug stare as, _"Ouch, that hurt… Can't even remember your face. What a bastard."_

Before Chloe could answer back to Beca, the brunette disregarded the matter instead. "Never mind. It's probably just in my head." She shook her head, clearing it. "Bellas!" She addressed the rest. "Real work starts as soon as everyone gets done with the food. As we all notice, our beloved house needs fixing… needs transformation to modern interior design."

As usual, Aubrey wore her intrusive attitude on her sleeves. "What, you want us to hire carpenters? Designers? Call pesticide control?"

"Relax, Aubrey." Beca jeered. "I'll save you guys from the burden of skimming through the telephone directory." She cast a large grin.

"Wow. I didn't know you knew how to care." Stacie busted in, sarcastically.

"What kind of person knows nothing about sympathy?" Beca rhetorically remarked.

"The fucking Beca-kind," Stacie muttered low from across the table.

Beca didn't quite seem to have heard what the tall brunette uttered. "What was that?"

Stacie grinned back hypocritically at her. "Nothing."

Beca took a deep breath before returning to the matter. "Okay, back to house-fixing. In about two hours, the trucks will arrive, bringing in wood, and… other stuff. For a week or two, we'll be working our asses off to be able to finish renovating this so-called Quarters."

Everyone blurted out their shock. "Whaaaat?!"

"Beca, are you saying that we," Ashley gestured to the Bellas in the room, "will be the ones doing the fixing itself? Didn't you hire workmen or-,"

Beca chuckled. "No need to worry, Ash-Ash. Us girls will focus on the re-painting and the re-decorating only. We'll leave the welding and the rest of the carpentry to the men my dad help me recruit." She playfully threw a wink at her cousin.

"Enjoy your healthy breakfast!" She greeted the atmosphere before leaving.

"I just lost the rest of my appetite." Aubrey said under her breath. "Why does she have to charge in and change everything?! That girl is no fun! No fun at all!" She growled.  


* * *

  
_[Two hours later…]_

"Okay," Beca began. "We throw away the 100-year-old leather couches on the foyer, and a conversation pit will take its place… well not exactly. We'll leave the foyer empty, as it should be. The conversation pit will have to be in the room to the right of the foyer area."

"First of all, those are actually 103 years old!" Aubrey busted in. "And second, why dig a compost pit inside this house?!"

"God, you!" Beca reacted in exasperation. "Try googling what a _con…ver…sation_ pit is first, will you?!" She cleared her throat. "Okay, next… A grand piano will stand erect at this area following the foyer. We'll also change the flooring to marble." She gestured to where they were situated – the empty space next to the foyer.

"And where do you think are we going to get cash for a grand piano, Beca?" Aubrey chimed in once more. "There's no way in hell that I'm allowing your hands into the Bellas' bank account. That goes solely for costumes, transpor-,"

The petite brunette cut her off. "I'm not interested in that money, okay?! My dad gave me a grand piano for my sixteenth birthday and that's what I'm donating to this house!"

"You own a grand piano?" Denise remarked in amazement.

"And you're just… donating it?" Chloe added, also amazed.

Beca chuckled at the two girls. "Yes. It's okay, really. I might not be using it soon, so I want the Bellas to make good use of it."

"Might?" Chloe said under her breath. "Is she dying, or something?" She joked, whispering to Aubrey.

"Okay! Next matter!" Beca continued. "I'm renaming this whole thing to Casa Bella. Plus, the-,"

Aubrey cut her off again. "Aca-scuse me?! The Bella Quarters have lived up to its name since the beginning!"

Beca reasoned out. "Well, 'casa bella' is Italian for be-,"

"Beautiful house! I know." Aubrey replied. "But you're-,"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Aubrey," Beca said, bridling the rest of her annoyance. "We'll put up a classy sign board out on the lawn with 'Casa Bella' in Chopin Script font. It's more appropriate; the old name never sounded Bella!"

"You know what else never sounded Bella?!" Aubrey raised her voice, but before she could finish her intended statement, Chloe chimed in.

"The peach-themed walls?" The redhead said loud enough to be heard under Aubrey's escalating rage.

"Yes! Thank you!" Beca enthusiastically exclaimed, shooting a finger to Chloe. "Which brings us to the next entry on our checklist: re-painting. In a couple of minutes, a truck full of paint cans will arrive. We'll have the exterior of the house sporting glory in the shades of Prussian blue, periwinkle, and cyber yellow."

Aubrey busted in, this time very angry. "What?! That's absolutely the most-,"

"Do you really have to interrupt me every time I speak? Do you really have to… to… negate everything I say?!" Beca interrupted. She exclaimed one more time when she anticipated that Aubrey was about to reply. "Shut it you fucking bitch!"

By those words, everyone was left startled, - eyes widened, mouths agape. Beca had thrown mean things to the blonde a lot of times but this one was the most insulting, - a serious injury to Aubrey as a person. Awkward silence filled the atmosphere for a while before Beca realized she had hit a nerve.

"I'm tired." She spoke low. "The workmen already know what to do. If you have questions, you can ask them." The brunette frantically grabbed her sling bag and headed out of the house.  


* * *

  
_[After dinner…]_

"Like this meeting's still necessary… There's no need for negotiation." Aubrey stood before Chloe and Ashley who both sat like marble sculptures at the edge of the blonde's bed. "There's only one creature in this world whose funeral will be my absolute celebratory party."

"Regine?" Ashley inquired.

"Beca!" Aubrey shot back. "It's going to be a mash-up of _Fuck You_ and _No One Mourns the Wicked._ "

Chloe shook her head quickly, pondering on whether or not she heard the blonde's words correctly. "What?! From Wicked? Bree, those two songs have completely different tempos, let alone chord progressions!"

"Fine!" Aubrey threw her hands up in defeat. "It's _Ding Dong the Bitch is Dead_ AND _No One Mourns the Wicked!_ "

Chloe and Ashley only slapped a hand to their foreheads in response.

That was a much worse combination, thought Chloe.

"It's actually _Ding Dong the Witch is Dead,_ " Ashley said softly, eyes on her shoes.

"Aubrey, I'm really, really exhausted from today's work. If your sensible logic's out for a holiday, I suggest we re-schedule this planning session. I need my bed right now," Chloe said, her tone reflecting the frazzle in her system.

"Like that's my fault. Head Bitch got us installing additional bulbs, hanging paintings on the walls, re-painting every inch of this house all day! Where was she when we did all the hard labor, huh? And she thought buying us dinner would've compensated for it." Aubrey replied. "We are not postponing this meeting. We'll be singing to Beca on Saturday, and that's final."

"Can't we sing to somebody else? Regine? Bumper? Anyone other than Beca?" Ashley intruded in.

"You got a problem with my decision, Ash?"

"Um," Ashley gulped nervously – unsure of what to say. "S-she's my cousin. A-and I don't want to-,"

Aubrey cut her off. "Then better yet, leave this group and find other company for this assignment."

"Woah, Aubrey… Don't talk to her that way," Chloe intersected in a calm tone. She sided with the dark-haired freshman in revising the recipient of their _Harana_ assignment. She tried to reason with her best friend, but the blonde had her way of arguing back and dismissing the matter in favor of her own verdict, like she always had.

"We'll sing to Beca. Done!"

"Not done!" Chloe shot back, standing up to level up with Aubrey's aggression. "Find other ways to channel that fury of yours. I won't let you ruin this activity. Besides, apart from that little insecurity of yours, you have no other rightful reason to do such a thing to Beca."

Aubrey's mouth fell agape at the redhead's accusation. "Um, excuse me, dear. In case you fell asleep during her speech this morning, she called me a fucking bitch."

"Well, you weren't exactly being nice to her." Chloe folded her arms and quirked a brow at the blonde.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes. "And you thought 'fucking bitch' wasn't too much? That I deserved it just right?"

"Well, maybe it was a _little_ bit over the line, but-,"

"Then I have the right to sing my hate!" Aubrey remarked.

"But I don't," interrupted Ashley. The two turned to her direction.

"Same here," Chloe told Aubrey. "This is a group assignment. We should be finding common grounds to work on."

The blonde rolled her eyes at Chloe's suggestion. "Well, I guess I can think about it overnight."

"Thank you!" Chloe exclaimed in her expression of relief that Aubrey had finally brought up a sensible thought.  


* * *

  
"Hey Jess," greeted Beca when the Treble picked up the call.

"Beca! You got to help me!" Jesse panicked at the other end of the line. "I think someone robbed my apartment last night!"

"Where are you?! Did you lose anything?!" Beca replied, her voice full of worry. She sat down at the porch of Casa Bella as she listened to her best friend.

Jesse was breathing heavily. "I'm… I'm here at my apartment, going through my collection. So far, I'm missing a CD in the OST section. It's the-,"

"Easy A soundtrack?" Beca inquired with sudden calmness. She threw a palm to her forehead upon realizing the real scenario.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, that's it." Jesse confusingly replied. "H-how did you-,"

"You were fast asleep at five in the morning today, so I used the spare key under the doormat to borrow that CD." Beca pinched the bridge of her wrinkled nose in embarrassment. "I am so, so sorry, Jess. I forgot to leave you a note about it."

"What did you need the CD at 5 AM for?" Jesse asked.

"Bella matters. Nothing more." Beca let out a short chuckle.

Jesse sat at the edge of his bed as he grinned. "So you really are the new captain of the Bellas, huh?"

Beca sighed. "There was no backing out. I had no choice."

"There's no such thing as 'no choice.' There's always a choice. And you clearly made yours."

Beca furrowed her brows. "And what is that?"

"You joined the Bellas so you can get back at Haull. Didn't you tell me that yesterday at the café?"

Beca was silent for a short while.

"Beca? Are you still there? Hello? Beca!"

"But it wasn't entirely because of it." Beca spoke. "I mean, some part of me wanted to do this for some other goal. I just can't figure out exactly what it is."

Jesse replied with a profound examination of Beca – something that the brunette found kind of annoying but at the same time, enlightening. "Beca, I think you're subconsciously taking only half of the responsibility of that choice you made… and that is why you are seeking for another cause to work for. You're aware that others may find your vengeful purpose to be childish and so to escape the proceeding accusations on your personality, you pretend like you're deprived of the human freedom of being your own fate."

When Beca didn't respond immediately, Jesse chuckled. "Too deep?"

"Too deep," confirmed Beca before she giggled back.

Jesse shifted the course of the phone conversation. "How's it going for you, Captain?"

"They hate me – all of them," replied Beca without delay.

"All of them? Including Ash-Ash?"

"What? No. Ash-Ash will always be at my corner, you know that. I mean, I could feel them stabbing me with knives."

"Literally?!"

Beca rolled her eyes. "Literally. No, dummy! Metaphorically!" She sighed. "This whole leading-a-bunch-of-girls thing? It's an impending disaster. I don't like talking to people."

"Now, now Becs. We both know that's not exactly true," comforted Jesse.

"Which one? The Bella thing being a disaster or me disliking people?"

"Both actually. But I was referring to the latter."

Beca expected that Jesse would've pointed to the 'former' and frowned when he said otherwise. She fondled the cord of her headphones that rested lazily on her lap as she worriedly thought about diving into that topic again with Jesse. She didn't want to, but here went Jesse tapping on it like crazy.

"The people that cross your path? They're going to matter, you hear me?" Jesse continued.

"Yeah I heard you the first five hundred times, Jess. And like I've always responded… No, they won't. They always come and go so fast. What's the point of socializing with them?"

"I don't want to sound like a boyfriend or anything, but… I won't go away." Jesse chuckled shortly. "So won't Ashley, and your dad. And the point of socializing with the others is that maybe one out of the ten idiots you bump to everyday will like you for you and stay."

"One out of ten… That's reassuring," scoffed Beca.

"Hey. One more friend is already a big difference, especially for you."

Beca ran her fingers through her hair before deciding to cut off things. "Jess, I need to go. I'm sorry, we'll talk soon, okay? I'll return your CD sometime next week." She talked fast and hung up before Jesse could bid his own farewell.

The ice cold wind that swiped smoothly on Beca's pale skin invited her inside the house. Exhausted from the day's demands, she sprinted to her room at the second floor – avoiding anyone's sight as she cruised past the foyer and the couches.

Beca paused and gently rested her head against the doorframe as she stared before the rest of her dimly-lit room. The frown had stayed on her face, mirroring the dusky atmosphere that stared back at her. The walls were bare and the desks were abandoned children. A bunch of pillows and an unfolded floral-themed gigantic comforter jumbled slovenly on the left portion of the king bed. Beca rolled her eyes when her sight landed on the baggage on the floor near the bed, reminding her to start unpacking.

Finally entering her room, she removed the headphones that hung around her neck and kept it in a drawer. Rest was calling to her, and she accepted the invitation as she kicked her shoes away and slumped lazily down to the vacant right part of the bed.

A faint smile slowly painted her face as her eyes shut peacefully, enjoying the comfort. Her consciousness was about to drift away to sleep when the jumble of sheets and pillows beside her suddenly shifted on its own. Beca's dilated pupils preceded the scream and the loud thump brought about by the slamming of her body against the carpeted floor of the room.

"Ow," muttered Beca as she held her left shoulder in mild pain.

Electric blue eyes fenced by fiery red curls crawled out of the messy cocoon on the bed and scooted across to where Beca lay. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Did you hit your head?"

"This is an occupied room, Bella number one." Beca massaged her hurt shoulder.

Chloe held out a hand and gently grabbed Beca's, leading the brunette to sit back on the bed. "I know. We occupy this room now… And my name's Chloe.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Beca found herself lost in the bright blue orbs that shone strikingly through the faint yellow rays of the lamp shade.

"Impending disaster," Beca spoke low as she gazed still at the most arresting irises she had ever seen.


	5. Chapter 1-5: But Thanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.) I WOULD LIKE TO THANK TheFlameRose (FanFicDotNet) AND your-arms-around-me (FanFicDotNet) FOR ALL THE HELP!

**Chapter 1-5: But Thanks**

Donald and Jesse were settled at the backyard of the Treble house while the moon's ample light eased out the night's darkness and the little bonfire before them provided warmth against the breeze. Jesse had been indulging himself reading a book for the past thirty minutes. Donald sat laxly in his foldable camping chair, his head hyperextended so that he faced the stars in the sky, listening to _Flo Rida_ while he frolicked with a baseball – throwing it vertically upwards over and over.

"Dude, if that ball gets lost in the woods, I'm going to crush your eyeglasses," remarked Jesse.

Donald continued playing with the ball. "Don't worry, Jesse. I'll make sure it gets back into your treasure box by morning."

"I don't get how you can amuse yourself all night with that little ball," said Jesse as he kept his sight locked to what he was reading.

Donald chuckled. "Dude, I don't get how you can amuse yourself all night reading that piece of shit!" He mocked.

"It's not shit. It's a book by John Green, entitled _The Fault in Our Stars,_ " defended Jesse.

"Hence, the alias piece of girly, over-dramatic shit."

Jesse diverted the core of the conversation. "Did you hear that this book will have a film adaptation soon?"

"Like I care," Donald scoffed.

"This is actually Beca's favorite book. When I heard about the film adaptation, I decided to read it."

"Oh yeah! You're one of those kids who so wanted to have read the printed word first before seeing the motion picture, yeah?"

Jesse's brows furrowed in annoyance. "Not exactly, _Duck!_ I wanted to read it so that I can compose my own soundtrack ahead of the big guys. It's a tragedy and the best way to a tragic OST is to meddle with the narrator's tone of speaking. You know, Hazel was a teenage girl but if you read the part where Gus died and she was mourning, you could still hear the consistency of _'badass-slash-hilarious-Hazel'_ in the way that she chose her words. I already have tons of ideas for this. I hope I can start uploading by the end of next month. It'll boost up my _YouTube_ views."

"Wow, _St. James!_ Nice strategy. I didn't know you had it in you!" Donald mocked.

 _"St. James?"_ Jesse's forehead creased. "Please tell me you didn't get that fr-," He pulled up upon coming to a realization. "Holy crap! Donald! You watch _Glee!_ "

Jesse's last word made Donald miss the catch and hit himself on the forehead with the baseball. Jesse pulled out his _iPhone_ and started tapping on the screen. "Man, _Twitter-verse_ will go crazy when they learn about Donald the _Gleek!_ " He said out loud.

"Jesse! Don't you fucking dare!" Donald warned as he plugged out his earphones. He held Jesse's ball up. "Hey Swanson! Any last words?" He scoffed as he positioned his arm ready to throw the ball far off to the blind woods. A devious smile crooked out of his face.

Jesse's mouth fell agape. "No! No! Donald! I was just kid-," But Donald had let go of the ball.

With wide eyes, Jesse watched as the little white sphere disappeared into sight. He held out his phone to Donald and showed the home menu on the screen. "My phone doesn't have any service in here, let alone an active connection to a hotspot! I couldn't connect to _Twitter_ dumbass!"

"Ooopps." Donald stood and stretched out a bit. "Keep calm Swanson. I'll find your baseball." He took a few steps heading to the trees.

"D-do you n-need my help?"

"I do, but I feel like this was entirely my fault so it's cool. No need." A couple more steps away from the bonfire and Donald disappeared into the trees.

* * *

"Hmmm?" Chloe squinted her eyes at the brunette. "Did you say impending dis-,"

"I'm fine." Beca blurted out. "Wow. You have the bluest of all blue eyes."

Chloe felt warmth pooling in her cheeks. She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or anything of that sort, but the mere fact that Beca finally noticed something about her (aside from that night at the resort) made her heart race.

Beca closed her eyes tight as she shook her head quickly. "Wait. How is this your room too?"

Chloe chuckled. "This is actually my room since last year. My previous roommate graduated already so I've been having these four walls by myself for a few weeks now. Well, obviously not anymore."

"Oh. Don't worry, I'll be right out of your hair in a jiffy." Beca stood and went for her bags on the floor.

Chloe dashed out of bed. "No, Beca! Don't take it the wrong way. I like you-," Her talking got halted when the brunette turned to face her. The nearness incited the butterflies to go wild in Chloe's stomach. She cleared her throat before finishing off. "I like you here."

Beca didn't say anything back and instead, fluttered her lashes while she goggled hilariously at the redhead.

"Besides, everyone else's room is full," Chloe added. She took a step closer to Beca and gently grabbed the satchel that had its strap clutched in the brunette's hand. "Come on. I'll help you unpack."

Chloe hung the satchel at the wall near the bed before switching the main lights on.

"If this is really a room for two, why is there only one bed?" Beca asked.

"I don't know. I guess, bunk beds weren't exactly in the dictionary of the Bella pioneers." Chloe picked up the rest of Beca's bags and laid them on the bed.

Beca was glued to her stance. "And they didn't hear of _'two separate single-size beds'_ as well?"

Chloe chuckled. "Apparently not."

"If this was your room since last year, how come this whole thing looks like a wrecked Titanic?" Beca wandered her eyes around the crude room.

"My former roommate was an Aubrey Posen junior. She wanted everything along margins, bla bla bla. I once put up laces of scarlet threads on the wall - slant and side by side so that the wall clock over them looked creatively framed and you know what she did the day after?"

"She… yelled and nagged endlessly at the laces?" Beca sarcastically guessed. She continued when she was met only with Chloe's confused face. "Didn't you say she was an Aubrey Posen junior?"

Chloe cracked a short laugh at the brunette's humor. "She um… She unglued them and trimmed the edges so that they presented in equal length and interval when she re-attached them vertically on the wall.

"Anyway, now that she's out, I'm redesigning this whole room. That's why it looks so bare right now. I kind of scraped off the pungent smell of her OCD-ness." Chloe continued.

Beca walked over to her at the bedside and contributed in unloading her clothes. "So you're basically starting over," Beca said as she unzipped a bag of hers.

Chloe smiled at her and nodded in agreement. The other girl kept stealing glances at the redhead that stood beside her, intermittently examining her face as she sorted her accessories in place. Chloe finally caught her staring.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just… I…" Beca took a deep breath before continuing. "Are you sure we haven't met before? I mean, I know I already asked you this morning, but you just seem so… so familiar."

Chloe picked up a pile of neatly folded shirts from the bed and headed to Beca's wardrobe to store them. "Bourbon Lancer? McDowell? No, dad I haven't been drinking? Jackson? Haull's bleeding nose? Jesse to his rescue?" Chloe paused and faced the brunette from across the room. "Notorious bastard?

"Did any of that ring a bell?"

A small smile pulled out of Beca as she finally hit the memory, her eyes fixed on the floor. "You're rocking that blue bikini, Chandra."

Chloe giggled. "You have a thing for names, don't you?"

Beca threw a half-smirk that painted Chloe's cheeks deep red.

 _That damn smirk,_ thought Chloe.

* * *

"Damn it mosquitos! Stop feeding off of me!" Donald yelled as he rubbed his nape aggressively where the itchy bite had been. The twigs cracked relentlessly under his feet as he raced around the forest for the sixth minute, searching for Jesse's lost baseball.

With a flashlight at hand, he zigzagged through the trees, patiently waiting for his light to stumble upon a circular white figure on the forest grounds. He paused at a semi-open space, - the nearest tree being at least eight feet away from where he stood still. The dim light by the night's moon barely gave Donald a fair view of the perimeter. His torch flickered as if it were to lose its battery life. Grunting in annoyance, he patted the head of the device with the ball of his hand, hoping to revive its usual performance at least until he makes it out of the dark woods. "Don't you die on me, buddy. The lord of darkness will devour on me if you do."

With a wisp of luck, the flashlight kept steady. "I love you," Donald whispered playfully to the device.

He was sure that the he had been in complete stillness when Donald heard leaves and twigs crunching from a distance. His heart raced at the entry of anxiety.

 _It could just be a harmless rabbit, or a lost deer… Or a hungry mountain lion,_ thought Donald in his head. He directed his torch to where he heard the sound and slowly walked towards the fat Mahogany trunk that seemed to be the only hindrance between his sight and whatever creature made the rustling noise. Donald jumped quickly past the trunk to see what's behind – ending up being met by a hideous scream.

"Ahhhhh!" A tall brunette dressed in revealing plunging top and skinny jeans and boots yelped as the glare of Donald's flashlight burned her sight. Her weight shifted off and met the cold dirt.

"Wait. You're that Bella girl, aren't you?" Donald asked her.

"I prefer the term _'woman.'_ And I have a name. It's Stacie."

"What the hell are you doing out here at this very hour, Stacie?" Donald questioned – his flashlight still directed at her.

Stacie kept her left hand held out in front of her squinting eyes. "I'll answer that excellent question if you take away that stupid flashlight of yours off my face and help me stand back to my feet."

Donald dimmed his torch and aided Stacie back to her balance. "So?"

"Okay, mister. I'm gathering that this piece of land might be your private property so I'll be straight and honest… I was on my way back to campus grounds from the _Theta Pi_ house. To cut the story short, I sort of lost my way into this freaky forest."

"I also have a name, miss. And it's Donald. And no, this isn't _my_ private property. I had thrown my friend's baseball out here and now I'm desperately searching for that damn thing."

Stacie wasn't paying much attention to his explanation. "Ow," she muttered as she caressed her wounded right hand.

"Woah, you're hurt." Donald gently held her hand and inspected the inch-long cut on her palm. "Damn, a twig sliced through your hand pretty deep."

Stacie rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Thanks to your epic entrance." She struggled to free her hands from his grip but failed.

"That's going to be infected if we don't do anything." Donald picked out an 8-ounce bottle of water from the pocket of his jacket. He cleansed Stacie's wound with half its contents and secured it from microbe exposure by wrapping his handkerchief around her hand. "There."

Stacie smiled lightly on the gesture. "You're pretty good at this."

"At what?"

The brunette leaned in closer to Donald and levelled her lips close to his. "At winning me over," she whispered seductively.

Donald chuckled. "I'm like a walking _breathalyzer,_ Stacie. And boy, do I smell a lot of ethanol from your air."

Stacie slowly placed a hand at the back of Donald's head – fondling his black locks gently between her digits. "I may have had some shots tonight."

"Right. You just came from a frat party. Okay, how about this? We figure out our way out of this dark shit and I walk you to your house," suggested Donald.

Stacie pulled back and brought a hand cupped upon her forehead. "I'm tired."

"I know, dear. Come on." Donald took her wounded hand and led the way out of the woods.

* * *

"I'm fucking sleepy!" Beca whined as she sat on the carpeted floor piling up her books and records. "I don't know about you Chloe, but I'm dozing off. It's been two hours. Unpacking can continue tomorrow."

Chloe watched as the brunette made her way to the king bed. "I was the one who burned down tons of carbohydrate-energy with all the renovation today and you're the one giving up this early?"

The petite brunette slumped back to bed, her stomach flat against the soft mattress. "It's complicated. I'm pretty much one of those who can't stand cardio."

"Good for me." Chloe left the rest of Beca's unfolded flannel shirts on the floor and joined her roommate in bed. "Beca?"

When the redhead got only soft snoring for a response, she got up on her knees and pulled Beca's socks off her feet. Chloe then, gently removed the ponytail on Beca's head (which the brunette didn't bother to even take off before drifting to sleep). The redhead felt her heart racing once more when her fingers brushed against the mellow strands of Beca's chocolate locks.

 _And they said, love at first sight didn't exist,_ Chloe thought.

Without delay, the redhead shifted her position so that she lay close to the brunette, with an arm thrown across Beca's trunk. About a minute had passed by when the brunette snapped back to reality, immediately realizing that Chloe cuddled into her. "Chloe, what the hell?!" Beca sat up.

"It's storming outside and it's cold. I'm a natural cuddle-er." Chloe said, her usual beaming smile obvious on her face.

"Yeah. It's storming outside and it's cold. And I don't like nearness." Beca reached over to the headboard of the bed and pointed to the "222" painted at the center. "This 222 is for our room number, yeah?"

Chloe nodded enthusiastically still.

"Okay, _Oh-Chlo._ Here are some ground rules: your side of the bed runs up to the middle '2' on this headboard. There's going to be a fine line that'll run towards the footboard, so no trespassing," explained Beca.

 _"Oh-Chlo?"_ Chloe asked.

"Because the O's in _'xoxo'_ represent the hugs. And you like hugs. Calling you Oh-Chlo makes me remember your name better." Beca looked right into Chloe's eyes as she talked.

"You got the bluest of all blue eyes too, Beca," Chloe said as she enjoyed staring back into the brunette's orbs.

"Yeah, but they're so dark, sometimes you can't distinguish my black pupils from my deep blue irises. It's boring."

"No, it's not. They're in deep blue like you said – which means that the blue pigment is way more vivid in yours than in mine. My eyes contain scant amount of color; yours are rich in hue and that's what makes 'em wonderful."

"No, your eyes are the wonderful ones," Beca argued. "I mean, when people look at you, your eyes showcase themselves on their own without much effort. With mine, you'd still need strong light so that the blue hue shows itself up."

Chloe's cheeks ran in red again with Beca's unintentional compliments. "And that's the thing Becs, - sometimes, those little things that can only be appreciated at a closer vieware the most beautiful ones. It's like, they stay reserved under radar because they are so precious to be easily out in the open; the fact that it would have to take a persnickety eye for it to be extremely beautiful sums its worth all up."

Beca slowly raised both her eyebrows. "Jesse's been the only one who has ever called me _Becs._ "

"Oh, sorry. It's habit. I'm like this breathing nickname-generator. I'll call you _Beca_ if that's what you prefer."

"It's fine, actually. If you're more okay with _Becs,_ then _Becs_ it is." Beca smirked shortly at Chloe. "It's funny, actually – how Jesse started calling me by that nickname. I've known him since forever but _'Becs'_ was born during our high school days. One time, I told him that I began to wonder about how come I could call him _'Jess'_ and it would sound so dominant over everything while everyone else called me _'Bec'_ and I would feel very little. Jesse said it was because his nickname ended with an 'S' making it sound plural and dominating. Right then, he offered to call me _'Becsss'_ – with three S's at the tail so that I will always think strong."

 _Right. Of course you got this long history with that Jesse guy,_ Chloe thought in her head. "You're this adorable little thing, aren't ya?"

"Don't call me that!" Beca growled, making Chloe giggle. The brunette lay again on her stomach, cuddling a red, round fluffy pillow. "Sleeping time."

Chloe retreated to the left side of the bed; her own side of the bed.

"Man, the only good thing about Casa Bella is that it has awesome pillows," commented Beca as she hugged the red pillow tighter.

"That's actually my pillow," replied Chloe.

Beca shifted again from her position and faced Chloe. "Pardon me. Here, I'll give it back."

"No. It's okay, Becs! Look, I have a spare. This shall be enough." Chloe grinned at the brunette.

"If you say so," said Beca before turning her head to the other side and shutting her eyelids down.

"G-goo-good night Becs," Chloe greeted sheepishly.

"G'night Oh-Chlo. Have sweet dreams," replied Beca half-asleep.

 _I've been having sweet dreams since you walked through that door earlier,_ thought Chloe.

_But thanks, Beca._


	6. Chapter 1-6: The Jesse Status

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I do not own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Hey there! Thank you so much for following this story!

**Chapter 1-6: The Jesse Status**

"Wow. Your room is – pink," commented Jessica when Cynthia Rose led her and Amy into the room she shared with Ashley.

"Great! In Tasmania, pink Mondays bring good luck," Amy said.

Cynthia Rose chuckled. "It's Ashley. That girl's kind of obsessed with flowers and anything pink, thus, our room." She gestured to the floral pink walls.

Amy and Jessica settled comfortably at Cynthia Rose's bed.

"Where is she, anyway? Your roommate?" Jessica asked.

Cynthia Rose set up the stereo and plugged in her _iPod_. "Ashley mentioned something about a family dinner slash reunion over at Beca's home that'll probably end up very late. She'll be staying there tonight."

"Oh. The wicked witch of the west. I almost forgot she's Ashley's cousin." Jessica rolled her eyes at the thought of Beca.

Cynthia Rose grabbed a chair and sat facing the two girls. "So, what songs are we going to mix for the _Harana?_ "

"Slow down, girl. Ask first who we'll be singing to," said Amy.

"This should be easy," interrupted Jessica. "We should sing to Beca."

Amy broke into laughter. "Oh, that will be so much fun!"

"Wait." Cynthia Rose shook her head. "Beca? Are you sure you guys want it to be Beca?"

Jessica shrugged. "Why not? She's been torturing us since Saturday."

"Yeah. Horrible Saturday. Almost two days have passed but I still have PTSD from all the lifting and hammering. And boy, do those Sbarro salads suck! Can you imagine eating breakfast without bacon?" The bridge of her nose wrinkled as she put on a tortured expression. "I am not called Tasmania's Bacon-eating Monster for nothing!"

"And didn't she say that we'll be doubling hours for boot camp, cardio, and vocal enrichment? Three hours a day! Man, I have a life outside of the Bellas. And I hope you're not forgetting that she called Stacie a big _loser_ for not being able to hit the notes properly this evening. That heartless little girl deserves our _Harana_ assignment," added Jessica.

"Okay. She may be a little strict but dedicating a hate mix to her in public would be too much," Cynthia Rose reasoned out.

Jessica's brows shot upward. " _A little strict?_ Damn, Rosie! That's some strictness threshold you got there!" She said, her voice vibrating with sarcasm.

The other woman threw a face that said _'You know well what I mean.'_

Jessica ignored her and walked over to the stereo to browse Cynthia Rose's _iPod_ for songs. "Hmmm, what do you got here? Let's see. How about-,"

"No, Jessica. We're not singing to Beca Mitchell." Cynthia Rose folded her arms.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "And then again… WHY NOT?! I'm pretty sure Aubrey's team has her as the recipient as well, so-,"

"Then let them do it! Let them humiliate Beca with their assignment!" Cynthia Rose interrupted. "One is enough, Jessica. And I'm certain that Aubrey will already have it look gruesome for her. Beca doesn't need us too to add up to that."

Cynthia Rose wasn't exactly on the honest side when she suggested that they let Aubrey's trio humiliate Beca. The assignment required someone who's funeral will be their celebratory party and for Cynthia Rose, unless Beca was Hitler's great granddaughter, the brunette won't be worth it.

Jessica tilted her head as she studied the other girl. "Well, aren't you a saint?" She said sarcastically.

Cynthia Rose let out an exasperated sigh. _Not even my pretend-hate worked on this girl,_ she thought.

"Fine!" Jessica finally agreed. "But pick somebody else good, somebody else worth it! I'm not quite pleased with how I was deprived of my freedom of expression."

Cynthia Rose smiled triumphantly. _It did work, after all._

"You okay with that decision, Amy?" Jessica queried.

"It's Fat Amy, my name. I've told you that a bazillion times." Amy cleared her throat. "And yeah, I'm cool with whatever you guys come up with."

* * *

"So," Jesse started as he and Beca waited patiently in line at Vyecertt Café. "How did family dinner go last night?"

"Well, you know, like most family dinners in American history: awkward… and boring," replied Beca. "Dad and aunt Ariel enjoyed the minutes catching up and reminiscing the days when their voices were still at the same key."

Jesse chuckled. "Why do you keep calling Ashley's mom as _Ariel?_ "

"Because it tickles my funny bone thinking that my father is _Sebastian_ and his sister is _Ariel._ It's sort of a cool non-cannon twist, yeah? A mermaid with a crab brother?" Beca's face was deadpanned.

Before Jesse could react, they were already face to face with the barista who carried a wide smile as she waited for their orders. "Uh, mint tea with extra honey for me; orange refreshment for my best friend," said Jesse.

"What?! No! Don't listen to him. I'm having mocha frappuccino, miss." Beca insisted. She caught Jesse glaring at her.

When they claimed their cups, Beca and Jesse settled at a small table situated just outside the glass doors of the café.

"You said that your dad planned the menu. What did you guys have for that family dinner?" Jesse inquired as he nursed his cup of mint tea.

"The usual: veggies, wheat, and everything bland." Beca rolled her eyes. "My dad's relentless. I think I had set him off last night when I pulled out the bottles of cola from the fridge and laid them on the dining table."

"You know what will set him off further?" Jesse gestured to Beca's drink. "That large frappuccino you're quaffing."

"Please," Beca mocked. "Why skip on the good stuff? Life's too short… like _really_ short." She stirred the contents of her cup with the straw.

Jesse watched as a café staff member walked innocently towards their table. Upon reaching them, he gently placed a hand over Beca's shoulder as he pulled out a piece of paper from the pockets of his Vyecertt Café apron. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

Beca looked up to him confusingly.

"Letter for Miss Beca Mitchell?" He held out the folded paper.

"I'm Beca Mitchell." She placed her beverage at the table to receive the paper. Before Beca could ask the staff member about who sent the letter, he was gone. When she successfully had unfolded the paper, Beca was met with a mysterious set of words.

"Enjoy the fucking show, dear Head Bitch," the paper said.

Jesse curiously leaned in. "Who is it from?"

Beca was pondering silently, when singing voices started hovering over the area.

_One way or another, I'm gonna find ya_   
_I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya_   
_One way or another, I'm gonna win ya_   
_I'll get ya, I'll get ya_

Denise sang as she entered Beca's sight, followed by Lilly who backed up the first verse with subtle beat boxing. An anonymous guy held out a video camera filming the two girls as they performed in public.

 _Geez, girls,_ thought Beca, chuckling shortly upon realizing that they were doing their _Harana_ assignment. Her gaze wandered as she searched for the third member, smirking deviously when long auburn hair approached gracefully against the blowing of the chilly afternoon wind.

_Just go ahead, hate on me, run your mouth_   
_so everyone can hear_   
_Hit me with the worst you got. Knock me down._   
_Baby I don't care._   
_Keep it up, and soon enough you'll figure out…_

Stacie sang with conviction, her glare firing bullets over at Beca. Circling behind the petite brunette's chair, Stacie leaned down, swaying her lengthy locks to one side as she neared her lips to Beca's ears. She sang the words with pride as the café crowd centered their attention into the Bellas' _Harana._

_You wanna be, you wanna be, a loser like me (One way or another)_   
_a loser like me…_

Beca smirked at Stacie's action, the memory of yesterday's tough rehearsal flashing back into memory. _Payback, huh?_ Beca thought. Jesse's meeting eyebrows threw a curious look at Beca that inquired "Becs, what the hell is going on?"

Denise got in charge of the succeeding verse, hitting its tune as fiery as Stacie did with her solo. Beca tilted her head at the blonde, curiously wondering why she's now meeting the Hyde out of Denise's Jekyll (something she never expected).

_Push me up against the locker. (I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya)_   
_And hey, all I'll do is shake it off. I'll get you back when I'm your boss._   
_I'm not thinking 'bout you fucker (I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya)_   
_'cause hey, I could be a superstar. I'll see you when you wash my ass._

Four lines by the once full of sunshine Denise Taylor; Lilly Onakunamara's cutting-edge beat boxing; Stacie Conrad's free-spirited solos… All communicated a unanimous message: anger.

_All of that dirt you've been throwing my way, (One way or another, I'm gonna find ya)_   
_it ain't so hard to take (I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya)_   
_'cause I know one day you'll be screaming my name (One way or another, I'm gonna win ya)_   
_and I'll just look away (That's right)_

_And if the lights are all out_   
_I'll follow your bus downtown,_   
_see who's hanging out_

Jesse, who sat fully entertained before his cup of mint tea, was amazed with how Stacie could take an amazing audience, with the out-of-the-box percussion sounds that escaped Lilly's genius throat, with Denise's vocals, with everyone's energy. They got a considerable mob of crowd fencing their small perimeter, cheering enthusiastically when the girls approached the "yell" part of their mash-up.

_Hey you, over there! Keep the "L" above in the air!_   
_Hey you, over there! Keep the "L" up 'cause I don't care!_   
_You can throw your sticks! You can throw your stones!_   
_Light the rocket, just watch me go!_   
_Yeah, L-O-S-E-R, I can only be who I are!_

One more run on the chorus of the Glee song and the girls ended their number with loud applause from everyone. The guy that held the camera entertained himself with documenting the cheerful crowd.

 _Awkward tempo disparity,_ was all Beca could think of after the mini show.

* * *

Walking past the lawn, Aubrey put her _Ray-Ban_ sunglasses on to combat the sun as it blazed overhead on a Wednesday morning.

"Father!" Aubrey called out as she entered through the main door of the Posen mansion. "Father! I'm home!" She waited for an echo of a response from anywhere in the big house, settling down at the couches of their extravagant living room when she didn't hear a sound. The thought of lazily resting her feet up on the couches crossed her mind but was ignored when she realized she needed to tell Chloe that she was out of Barden and was to miss this morning's Bella rehearsal.

"Aubrey!" An excited and enthusiastic tone called out. It wasn't exactly the voice that Aubrey expected to hear, but it left her smiling at the very sound of it.

"Dan! _Omigod!_ I missed you!" Aubrey ran towards a ten-year-old boy who had his arms spread out to accept her incoming tight hug. She playfully pinched his reddened cheeks before petting his blonde locks through gritted teeth. "That's an _aca-cute_ haircut, Danny-boy! My, I haven't seen you in years, little brother."

"Ugh. Aubrey, how many times do I have to remind you to call me by my proper name?"

"Oh forgive me Declan Daniel _'aka awesome brother'_ Posen."

"Not what I meant, Aubrey!" Declan moved to sit on the couches. "And no, it hasn't been even a year yet since you last saw me. It was just two months and seventeen days ago."

Aubrey giggled. "You keep count?"

Declan nodded. "It's an interesting thing to do – counting days."

"Declan, why aren't you in school, by the way?"

"It's Winston Perkin's memorial day."

"Who's Winston Perkin?"

"The first headmaster of my school. Don't you remember? He has this big self-portrait at the lounge that you labelled as _'subtly tinctured'_ when you came to watch our winter play last year."

"Oh," remarked Aubrey, pretending to have successfully hit the correct memory. "That play was awesome."

"Yeah, until I tripped off the stage," Declan said with disappointment in his tone.

His reply finally led her into remembering. Aubrey cuddled her little brother into her to comfort him. "You still upset about that debacle?"

Declan shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I got basketball and the math club. I think my given credentials will suffice the burial of that awful event in my life."

Aubrey cradled him, hugged him tighter before placing a light peck on the top of his head. "So, what should we be looking forward to this season, Team Captain? Are the Winston Sharks getting a back-to-back legend?"

Declan didn't reply.

"Dec? Are you okay?" Aubrey pulled him away gently from the cuddle.

He crashed back yearningly into his sister's embrace. "Hug me for three more minutes before I answer anything basketball-related."

Her brother's clingy behavior at the moment bothered Aubrey. "Something wrong?"

"I wish Mother was still alive. She would've protected me." Declan tightened his hug around her waist. "Frankenstein's monster yelled at me the other night when she saw the _B plus_ on my essay."

"Who's Frankenstein's monster? Regine?"

When her brother didn't answer, Aubrey rubbed a hand up and down his shoulder – a gesture that Declan found to be so lenitive. "Don't listen to her, Declan. _B plus_ is already an achievement."

"To you, maybe. To Father, it wasn't."

"He said that?"

"Not exactly. When I handed him the paper and he saw the _B plus,_ he simply grinned at me. Usually he'd ask for a high five or a fist bump, but he just smiled. He probably didn't like it."

Aubrey wanted to tell him that he was wrong; that knowing their father, he never faked smiles. She wanted to keep telling Declan that he did alright, but the mutual feeling of not being enough made her think twice that maybe her brother needed some more pushing. And yet, encouraging him to be better would spice up the load he carried on his back. Aubrey knew that exact pain, that exact burden very well. She hated the thought of dragging her brother into that same hell.

Declan fondled the ruffles at the edge of his sister's blouse. "I'm thinking of enrolling in an online writing class, ya know? It's hard that I can't be as awesome as Regine. I feel so different. I'm stuck here getting B's on my essays while Regine is like – three steps behind from inheriting a law firm. She's not even a lawyer yet. And you, you're a _straight-A_ pre-law student and you won pretty much every debate competition there was. Father is so happy because you're on the same track of success as Regine, as him, as Old Gramps Danny, as every Posen that walked the Earth."

 _Not really, Dec. I'm not even close to being there yet,_ argued Aubrey in her head. She took Declan's hand to softly caress it, only to discover several fresh abrasions on his arm.

"Dec, where did you get these?!" Aubrey worried.

Declan pulled his hand and tucked it in. "Basketball. Hadrian West's point guard ran over me."

She forcibly took his hand and inspected it. "You should've had this nursed properly by Regine! This will get infected!"

"I don't like her. She might even scold me for being so careless. I hate how she's the one sleeping here in this house every night and not you."

Aubrey disappeared into a hallway without a word and came back with a first aid kit. She dipped gauze pads into the iodine solution and cleansed Declan's wounds before covering it with a thin sheet of dressing secured by _Transpore_ medical tape.

"They teach you first aid in pre-law?" Declan inquired.

She chuckled. "No. My best friend Chloe taught me how. She's studying to be a doctor."

Aubrey didn't want to leave her brother feeling so down. "I'll tell you what… The next time your teacher assigns an essay homework, I'll proofread and improve your draft before you submit it." She cast a comforting smile at him.

Declan beamed at the idea. "I'd love that, Aubrey! Thank you so much!" He threw himself again into a tight hug.

The giddy frisson in Aubrey's heart was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. "Dec, I have to take this call. Go to your room, wait for me there. Then we'll play _Starmaker._ " Her brother followed without delay.

Aubrey went into the porch for better reception before picking up the call. "Hey, Chlo! I was just about to call you."

"Where are you? Beca's starting to get angry with the incomplete attendance. And by _'incomplete attendance'_ she meant you being absent today."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Tell fucking Head Bitch that I'm at home right now and will be back before the sun sets today!" She yelled.

Chloe giggled. "Yeah, I will. Calm down, Bree."

"So are you guys on a ten-minute break or something?"

"A ten-minute _me-time_ to be exact. Everyone here was dead in spirit when we started today's rehearsal, so Beca told us to withdraw from socializing for ten minutes and contemplate on how disappointing we are for not doing what we were purposed to do." Chloe let out a chuckle. "It's funny. Everyone else except for Stacie was doing actual contemplation. Your roommate's busy with a nail file right now. What a rebel."

"And you're not a rebel?" Aubrey scoffed.

"I was done doing my contemplation! I've got like, six more minutes."

Aubrey shifted the topic. "Is that why you called? Because you were bored stiff with yourself over there?"

"That, and because I'm letting you know that I won't be able to attend _Harana_ practice tonight." Chloe's voice dropped. "I'm painting our room. The paint cans will be delivered this afternoon. That is, if our proposal presentation with Professor Higgins gets moved. Either way, I'll be busy tonight. I hope you're okay with that, Bree.

"Anyway, I can catch up pretty fast as long as I have the proper music sheets in my hands."

Aubrey grunted. "I missed Beca's rehearsal session so I guess it's only rightful that someone misses mine. Fine, Chloe! But if you mess up big time on our next practice, I'm changing the _Harana_ recipient's name to Beca."

"Yay! Aubrey you're the best!" Chloe wheedled.

"Yeah, whatever, Red. Listen, I'm playing _Starmaker_ with Declan, so I got to hang up. Bye!" Aubrey ended the call.

* * *

_[Later at night…]_

Chloe sat at Casa Bella's garden with a piece of paper and a pen. The ice cold wind made her nose go red while she doodled a pine tree on the back of her notebook. She jolted and reached for her phone excitedly when it rang at the coffee table.

_"Hey, guys! Professor Higgins just announced that thesis proposal presentation is rescheduled next week! Tomorrow is a free day! ~ Valerie Woods. [received at 6:02 P.M.]"_

Chloe squealed in excitement before sprinting up to Room 222. The redhead smiled when she spotted Beca sitting on the bed, bobbing her head rhythmically to the beat from the headphones around her head.

"I didn't know you were home early. Didn't you have a gig or something?" Chloe said as she laid down her notebook and pen on her desk.

Beca didn't hear her words over the ear-splitting volume from her headphones. Chloe giggled from where she stood upon realizing this. The redhead hovered over from corner to corner in search of the paint cans that she brought in earlier this afternoon. When she gave up searching, she called her roommate's attention.

"Beca, did you happen to know where the paint cans are?" Chloe inquired.

Beca took off her headphones. "Paint cans? What paint cans?"

"The paint cans that were there on the floor near my desk."

"Oh." Beca reached for the remote and turned on the television. "I threw them out."

Chloe's eyebrows furrowed as she thought about hearing Beca's words correctly. "Pardon?"

"I threw them out," Beca said, her eyes glued straight to the television. "Their awful smell was all over the room when I came in, and I couldn't breathe, so I threw them out."

Chloe shook her head. "Beca, are you playing with me? Where are the paint cans? I'm designing the walls tonight."

"I told you, I threw them out."

"You threw them out?" Chloe repeated, her voice starting to vibrate with annoyance.

"Yea, I did. I couldn't breathe in here, so I had to."

Chloe paced up and down the room as she battled with herself on whether or not she should believe Beca and get angry with her. "Beca, you can't just throw away somebody else's stuff like that! Are you out of your mind?!" She yelled over to her.

Beca didn't reply immediately, implying that she was distracted with what she's watching. Chloe grabbed the remote and switched off the television. "Beca, I'm talking to you!"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "And I was watching MTV! Give me the remote back!"

"No! Not until you look me in the eye while I talk to you!" Chloe folded her arms in front of her.

Beca narrowed her eyes at Chloe. "I'm listening."

"Where are the paint cans?!" Chloe queried again, her tone still up high with annoyance.

"I threw them out of the room," said Beca in her calmest tone.

"Why did you throw 'em out?!"

"They were stinky and I couldn't breathe."

"Beca, I bought them with my own allowance! That's my money you made to disappear!"

"Money isn't lost, Oh-Chlo. It's like energy: it's never lost because it just keeps getting transferred and rotated."

"What the fuck, Beca?! Will you drop the sarcasm for one second and have a mature conversation with me?!"

"How about, no?" Beca grinned before getting the remote from Chloe's hand and switching the television again.

Chloe's fists were shaking as she boiled with fury. The brunette was being a child. No, the brunette was being a bitch. Chloe recognized her anger as identical to Aubrey's and Stacie's every time Beca got to their nerves. _So this is what it feels like…_

"Beca, you need to replace the paint cans!" Chloe yelled once more.

"No, I don't. They weren't mine. You replace them yourself," Beca said softly, her eyes stuck at the TV again.

Chloe's breathing went faster with each second. She frantically grabbed her purse and stormed out of the room. As she was walking brisk out of the house, she thought about that lost hope of getting Beca to treat her a little nicer than she did with everyone else. It punched her in the stomach, thinking that she couldn't have the 'Jesse-status' in Beca's life; that she's about the same as everyone else to Beca – the girl she liked. The other night, everything was going well between the two of them and then all of a sudden, she acted weird and uncouthly.

_[After a few hours…]_

"Ashley, it's a D sharp!" Aubrey said at the top of her voice as she repeatedly slammed a finger to a black key of the piano.

"I'm so sorry, Aubrey. I'll try again," Ashley said sheepishly.

"From the top. Let's start with your humming," suggested Aubrey before she took one deep breath. "Okay. Five. Six. Sev-,"

Aubrey's cue got halted when the gym doors flew wildly open and a furious Chloe charged right into them – surprising the two girls.

"Chloe!" Aubrey greeted. "I thought you're re-painting the-,"

"I'm changing our set list for the _Harana,_ " Chloe said as she took out a pile of papers. She dropped her satchel at the foot of the piano.

"What? You can't do that. I'm halfway done with this arrangement," said Aubrey.

"Too bad. I have my arrangement all finished." Chloe distributed the music sheets. "And don't bother asking me about my ability to come up with an arrangement in two hours. It's a Chloe Beale thing," she added.

There was one thing that Aubrey noticed was absent: The Chloe Beale smile. The redhead's lips frowned while her brows furrowed in silenced fury.

Aubrey smirked as she studied the sheets. "Powerful songs, Chlo. Did Bumper shove you to a tree on your way here?"

"Oh, we're no longer singing to Bumper," Chloe said as she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"We're singing to my fucking roommate, Beca Mitchell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. The songs featured here in this chapter are 'One Way or Another' (by Blondie), 'Loser Like Me' (from Glee) and I don't own them.


	7. Chapter 1-7: Once a Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I do not own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.) Hey guys! I hope you liked Declan Posen in the previous chapter! We'll be seeing him again in some of the future chapters. =D And thank you for the reviews! I know that a lot of you are eager to know Beca's real deal, but our girl Chloe Beale would have to yet revise a clever plan to successfully do so. 
> 
> In this chapter, Chloe gives something to Beca that MIGHT turn things around for all of them. Enjoy reading!

**Chapter 1-7: Once a Bitch**

_When you see my face_  
 _Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell_  
 _When you walk my way_  
 _Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell_

And although there's pain in my chest,  
I still wish you the best with a _'FUCK YOU!'_

Beca didn't know how she ended up in this situation. The frazzle in her system and all the singing in the room hotwired the rest of her consciousness. It wasn't just the cracks on her lips or the rumbling sounds in her stomach that stressed her; it wasn't just the overworking of her brain that made her yearn for rest.

Dr. Thornton led a lecture on the arguments between the Traditional Rationalistic View on human nature and Darwin's theory for five straight hours, - leaving Beca's brain and spirit drained of all its functional capacities. Dr. Thornton was flexible in talking and in explaining (as he always was every Thursday morning) but Beca's comprehension was slower than it should be. Beca knew this perfectly, but that didn't stop her from trying. Add the fact that she unconsciously dropped her wallet somewhere on the way to the cafeteria from Thorton's lecture and never retrieved it. She had to endure the twenty-minute walk from the building to Casa Bella… and the empty stomach.

When Beca opened the door, three faces greeted her with furrowed brows and devious smirks. As Beca made her way through the foyer, the singing started. She realized she was to receive yet, another Harana and that she must pause and well – _judge._

Ashley started the mix. She sang the first few lyrics with considerable energy. Beca found her highly entertaining. The words were expressions of hate but she couldn't help but notice how her cousin enjoyed singing every note. Beca knew that she didn't mean any of it, – that Ashley was simply _singing_. Beca gave a light smile: a gesture which Ashley returned with a friendly grin.

_You come on with it, come on, you don't fight fair,_  
_But that's okay – see if I care._  
_Knock me down. It's all in vain._  
_I get right back to my feet again._

When it was Aubrey's turn to sing, Beca's sight dimmed. The blonde dominated the living room with her usual dominating personality – campaigning her undying hate to Beca Mitchell. At one point, Beca had let out a jeering chuckle; Aubrey sang her parts with too much emotion that her performance level turned out so chaotic. To Beca, it seemed more of a revolution cry rather than, well – actual singing.

 _Clever layering of lyrics, though,_ she complimented. Even the background humming and simple beat boxing was something Beca found to be wonderful. Independently, each factor of the mix was a five-star rating on its own. Add it all up and it proved to be one genius arrangement.

Beca had thought of all this in the span of Aubrey's verse. That was how easy it was for her to ignore the blonde's singing and focus on actually judging the _Harana_ mash-up.

The extent of facileness Beca had in ignoring Aubrey's singing matched the extent of arduousness she next experienced in trying to ignore Chloe's. The redhead, still gorgeous even in her times of pure fury, sang her parts exactly the same way as Aubrey delivered hers. It was full of meant words, full of meant hate. Beca could not fathom why she couldn't resist the temptation to accept Chloe's message.

It wasn't just the cracks on Beca's lips or the rumbling sounds in her stomach that stressed her; it wasn't just the overworking of her brain that made her yearn for rest. It was the hurting in her chest that confused her even more and made her breathing ragged.

_I picture the fool that falls in love with you_  
_Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell_  
_And truth be told I miss you (Fuck you!)_  
_And truth be told I'm lying (Fuck you!)_

_Hit me with your best shot!_  
_Come on! Hit me with your best shot!_  
_Hit me with your best shot!_  
_Fire away!_

This wasn't the first time that someone had said _'Fuck you!'_ to Beca. She had enough of it from Haull back in high school. And yet, why did every hair in Beca's skin stand with every word that left Chloe's mouth?

Beca noticed her breathing requiring more effort as her pulse started to race.

It was so meant, - the hate, it was all real. It hit Beca at that soft spot – she never had the problem of ignoring insults and detestation… until now. Chloe Beale was angry at her, - Beca got that now.

That explained why Chloe didn't come back to their room last night after she walked out upon learning that the paint cans were gone. That explained why Beca felt a slight strike in her chest when the redhead slammed the door. That explained why Beca didn't have a good sleep thinking if she had pissed Chloe totally. That explained why her roommate didn't talk to her at breakfast. That explained everything; that confirmed everything.

Beca found herself crying like a child. Her brain was in silent tantrums, - asking for the noise to cease, asking for the bullying to stop. _Bullying? Is that even the right word for it?_ She questioned herself.

The prevailing music in the living room gathered the rest of the Bellas. They all watched as Aubrey and Chloe sang their hate, and how Beca took all of it as a mere jest. Stacie shook her head at Beca; she couldn't understand how Beca could look so calm despite all this.

While Chloe sang her last two lines, she circled Beca's stance. And with her final note, she slipped a small piece of paper into the upper pocket of Beca's plaid shirt. Beca was too caught up to actually notice. And as the trio exited the scene, Aubrey raised two middle fingers proudly over at Beca's direction.

Then, everything blacked out for Beca. She wasn't in her right mind when she walked out of Casa Bella and hailed a cab back to their own house. And when the driver pulled over, Sebastian was waiting with dollar bills to cover up for the fare. Beca pondered over how her dad knew beforehand that she was coming (and with no cash at hand) and was about to think that her dad was a psychic when at the corner of her mind, she remembered sending a text to him immediately after she mounted the cab.

Beca rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of cold water.

"What do you want for dinner?" Sebastian beamed. Beca didn't answer.

"Bad day?" Sebastian followed up. Beca quaffed from her glass.

Sebastian was used to Beca not returning his inquiries but the tired eyes she wore and the heavy breathing gave off the clue that something wasn't right. "Come on, Bec. You can talk to me." He sat at the counter. "Beca-,"

"Dad! It's none of your business!" Beca yelled – surprising them both.

Sebastian got up and walked to his daughter. "It's okay, honey. It's okay." He slowly leaned in Beca's head against his chest.

Beca was reluctant to the gesture at first, but in the end, found herself clinging and crying to her dad's grey shirt. Sebastian stroke the strands of Beca's chestnut-brown locks as he tightened the embrace around his daughter's tiny frame. Beca was flooding his shirt with previously-held tears. Sebastian continuously rubbed a hand against her shoulder as he let his daughter feel through whatever hurt she was having.

It didn't matter that she didn't say a word about the reason behind the sobbing. Sebastian was rather glad that Beca was courageous enough to face pain… _at last._

* * *

_[The following morning…]_

Beca walked back into Casa Bella with head held up high. The thick eyeliner highlighted her usual strong-willed eyes (showing no signs of the previous night's crying). She made her to Room 222, avoiding everyone's eyesight along the way. Her eyes accidentally landed to Aubrey who, once more, raised her middle finger at the freshman. This time, Beca raised hers back. Beca smirked, apparently pleased with herself for regaining her sense of pride and false courage.

She was at a happy pace walking to their room and when she swung the door open, Beca scrunched her nose immediately and covered a hand over her mouth. "What the fuck is that smell?!" She blurted out illogically.

As Beca walked deeper into the room, she had let out a vomiting sound. Thank goodness, nothing came out of it "Fuck! I can't breathe!" She dashed to her wardrobe, flung it open and ransacked the drawers until she found an N95 surgical mask. She wore it over her face in half a second and began breathing heavily. Beca then hurried to the windows and flashed them all wide open.

"You know, you could have just said that you don't like my perfume rather than act all _fuckingly_ annoying."

It then sank to Beca that Chloe was also in the room. She realized the little misunderstanding that just occurred but before Beca could utter a word, Chloe was gone (evidenced by the loud smashing of the door).

 _Well honestly, I really cannot breathe right now. It's like entering the detergent soap aisle of the grocery store,_ Beca said to herself in sincere defense.

Chloe was still mad at her (probably much more now that she thought she mocked her perfume).

Beca sat at the edge of the edge of their king bed as she focused on stabilizing her breathing. She remembered the paper Chloe slipped into her pocket last night. Beca read it before she dozed off to sleep but was too tired to internalize it at the time. She searched the pockets of her jeans and smiled when the smooth texture of the stationary paper brushed against her fingers. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

_"Dearest Beca, stop being a bitch. You can do better. ~ O-Chlo."_

Beca stared at the piece of paper for a while, her thumb gently hovering over the ink that spelled Chloe's message. She flipped the paper and noticed an unfinished sketch of a pine tree. From the tearing marks that bordered the note, Beca deduced it was probably a last-minute touch that Chloe had decided to do before putting up the show yesterday. She figured that Chloe tore that page from the doodle pages of one of her notebooks and wrote the simple message at the other side of the paper.

Beca admired Chloe's sense of artistry. Her sketch of the pine tree wasn't even halfway done but it was already soul-penetrating for Beca. She smiled, lifted her mask and placed a light peck on the material.

 _Dear fug! It's scented!_ Beca giggled.

* * *

Stacie was tip-toeing around the woods once more. She hated wandering around the trees and had commented how the forest was kinder to her at night time. She knew where she was headed to, but was unsure if she had the map of the woods accurate in her head.

A while after, Stacie heard soft rustling from a far. At that very second, she froze in fear of the unknown. She sprinted towards the nearest tree and rested her back against its sturdy trunk. Her heart raced in rising anxiety.

"BOOO!"

Stacie lost her balance and was looking forward to another messy fall onto the forest grounds but this time, Donald successfully caught her. He was laughing softly.

"Donald! That wasn't funny!" Stacie freed her hand from Donald's grip when she regained her stance.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're wearing stilettos in the woods?" Donald jeered.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're here in the woods?

"And they're not stilettos. They're wedges."

Donald smirked. "I was hoping I'd catch you here again, to be honest."

"Me?" Stacie quirked a brow up. "You were waiting for, me?"

Donald gave an enthusiastic nod.

"And what made you think I'd be passing by this exact route again?" Stacie playfully folded her arms.

Donald shrugged. "I figured you're a frequent visitor over at Theta Pi's and that you love taking the shortcut route along the woods instead of hailing a cab and paying quite the amount."

"Nice."

"Yeah. I was actually-,"

"Hey, Donald?" Stacie took full control of the conversation.

"Yeah?"

Stacie cleared her throat. "Is your friend Jesse at the Treble house right now?"

"Jesse? No uh, he took off pretty early today. I think I heard something about a convention for young artists thing. I'm not quite sure," Donald said.

"Oh." Stacie took a deep breath. "Did Beca come to see him last night? Or this morning?"

"Nope! Jesse was doing a marathon of Harry Potter movies last night. Beca wasn't at the house." Donald narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

Stacie pretended to have found his inquiry absurd and chuckled. "No! No! Everything's fine. Nothing's wrong. Why'd you think of that?"

"Well, you were bombarding me with curious questions." Donald smiled. "Listen, I've got something for ya."

He held Stacie's hand and led her to another tree with an "X" sprayed on its trunk.

"I marked the correct route back to your vicinity so you won't get lost the next time you walk by!"

Stacie found a trail of yellow yarn tied from tree to tree that ended in a blind curve afar.

"This will lead me back easily to Casa Bella?" Stacie confirmed.

"Yeah! I made it for you."

"That's so sweet, Donald." Stacie coaxed. "Look, I need to get going. We have rehearsals," she lied.

"Oh sure, um see you!" Donald walked away as Stacie began trailing along the route Donald had cleared for her.

Stacie picked her phone from her pocket and dialled Aubrey's number.

"Aubrey, hey! Jesse wasn't at the Treble house. I didn't get anything."

"Ugh! I so wanted to know if poor Beca went crying like a little kid after our show last night!" Aubrey scoffed at the other end of the line.

Stacie chuckled. "I know, Aub. Beca didn't come over though – so I can't tell if she resorted to daddy instead. But you know, I think she did shed a tear or two."

"Oh yeah?"

"Postive, Aub! You guys were a blast last night! Chlo especially was at her peak! That should've made her cry like a babe!"

Both girls laughed.

"Good, then – if you're right. She'll be less of a bitch from this point on," Aubrey commented.

"I'll be home in about ten minutes. Shopping spree still on?"

Aubrey smirked. "You bet'cha! I'll get ready!"

* * *

As the usual Saturday morning ruled over Casa Bella, subtle sounds by the grandfather clock and the visiting birds roamed the atmosphere as the girls slept sound in their beds. House renovation duties don't begin 'til around eight.

And also, like last Saturday, a buzz kill went at work.

An alarm tone rang all over Casa Bella, ruining everyone's slumber once again. Every room echoed the loud ringing – leading all girls to get up from their beds.

"I didn't know we have a public address system!" Aubrey yelled over the noise as she dashed out of bed.

Stacie made a quick pit stop at her vanity desk and applied loose powder on her face. "Apparently, Head Bitch got it installed during the renovation this week!" She replied to Aubrey.

All girls were met with a note pasted on their doors.

_"Girls, start preparing for the last Harana video presentation today. I'll be arriving at 6:30 A.M. – everyone should be at the couches all set up for the presentation. See you! ~ Beca."_

The girls assembled at the ground floor and talked among themselves their respective assignments on the set up: Cynthia Rose, Jessica, and Amy went to ensure that their _Harana_ video was working perfectly, Stacie, Aubrey, and Chloe went upstairs to the equipment room to grab the cables and the video projector, and the rest re-assembled the couches (the conversation pit wasn't fully accomplished yet).

"Beca didn't sleep here last night?" Aubrey asked Chloe as they journeyed through the corridors. The redhead shook her head.

"And she didn't say anything about where she went?" Aubrey followed up.

"No. I mean, I wasn't still talking to her," replied Chloe.

"Oh, such pride!" Stacie scoffed!

Chloe chuckled. "Five bucks, says she'll be kinder to us later," she dared.

"Make it ten!" Stacie exclaimed. "The whole PA system thing doesn't sound _'kinder'_ to me. Ten bucks, says she's still our dear Head Bitch!"

By Beca's deadline, everyone sat lax at the couches, sharing random stories with each other as they waited for Beca to arrive.

"Man, I knew I should've hid a tampon under my pillow last night!" Amy exclaimed.

"A tampon?" Jessica wondered.

"Yeah! In Tasmania, tampons under pillows summon the goddess of good luck!"

"Tasmania sure has deep roots to favoring luck, huh?"

Amy simply heaved a sigh and started jumping in place to cope with the rising nervousness.

* * *

_[After an hour…]_

"THAT IS IT!" Aubrey shouted before walking out of the living room. "Beca is not coming! I am so done with this shit!"

The girls started getting up from their seats right after Aubrey's rant.

"Wait. Is it possible that we, um," Cynthia Rose stuttered on her remark when everyone else turned to her with furious glares. "Ten more minutes?"

"Cynthia Rose, it's been an hour! Obviously, she's not coming!" Stacie yelled.

Jessica unplugged the stereos and the video projector. "Stacie's got a point, Rosie. Beca just ditched us."

It took a while before Cynthia Rose began to accept that Beca wasn't coming. She lent a hand in re-arranging the set-up back to storage.

"We all had to fucking get up at six on a Saturday just so she could ditch us?!" Stacie ranted.

Cynthia Rose carried the video projector and walked behind Stacie and Chloe to the equipment room. "There probably was an emergency, ya know? Something probably came up and-,"

"She should've sent a text, then," interrupted Stacie. "But she didn't, did she?"

Cynthia Rose let out a sigh.  
http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/m/miss-saigon-script-transcript.html  
"I don't understand you, Cynthia Rose. Of all people, you should be the angriest one. You worked hard for that video presentation and Beca didn't make the effort to show up!"

They arrived at the equipment room and put back the technologies back to storage.

"I am never falling for another Beca Mitchell trap ever again!" Stacie yelled. She turned to Chloe with burning eyes. "And you owe me ten bucks."

Chloe was sure she heard the brunette mumble something as she walked out. She walked back to Room 222 and laid back in bed. Chloe stared at the red jagged line that divided their bed and found herself actually missing Beca's presence in the room.

Chloe wanted her back, but Beca was relentless in disappointing her. She was positive that her note had somehow made an impact to Beca. And now, a tear ran down her face as fate betrayed her. She meant nothing to Beca, nothing at all.

Stacie's mumbled words resounded in Chloe's head. "Once a bitch, always a _bitch._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. The songs featured here are 'Gives You Hell' (by All-American Rejects), 'Fuck You' (by Cee Lo Green), and 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' (by Pat Benatar) and I don't own them.


	8. Chapter 1-8: With Just One Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Thank you for the lovely reviews! Keep 'em coming!

**Chapter 1-8: With Just One Note**

Beca entered Room 222 and found Chloe scribbling at her desk. "Hey," the brunette greeted before hanging her sling bag on the wall.

"That's all you got after ditching the presentation two days ago? Hey?" Chloe scoffed, her voice vibrating with escalating annoyance.

Beca replied with only one word. "Sorry."

The boiling anger inside Chloe led her to her feet and faced Beca. The brunette looked tired for a Monday morning – her eyes a little sunken, her skin paler than usual, and her posture reflecting scarcity of energy. Chloe assumed she hadn't gotten any sleep yet from last night's gig. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Beca?! Cynthia Rose and her group worked their asses off for that video and-,"

"I said I'm sorry! Okay? There was an emergency." Beca wasn't entirely enraged but her voice was raised.

Chloe gulped nervously when she heard her roommate. Cynthia Rose was probably right when she said there probably was an emergency that caused Beca's sudden absence. She was trying to look for words to say when Beca continued explaining.

"My dog died," Beca said flatly.

Chloe's fists clenched; she wasn't buying Beca's claim. "Your dog died? Awww, poor thing. What was it? Cancer? Tuberculosis?" Along with the sarcasm, she folded her arms and quirked an eyebrow upwards. "Rabies?"

Beca narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Just old age, actually."

Chloe was glaring at her. "You wrote in a slam book that your cousin owned that you don't like puppies."

"What?! That thing's still alive?! Ash-Ash! Ugh!" Beca shook her head quickly. "Anyway, that was so fifth grade, Oh-Chlo! Things change. I learned to love dogs."

"It was written in Ashley's girly notebook that you didn't like puppies because they make you sneeze and itch whenever you're near them." Chloe said, holding in the rest of her annoyance. "You're allergic to pets, Beca. That's how I know that you never had a dog."

Beca rolled her eyes. She sat at her side of the bed and kicked her shoes off.

"You give the lamest excuses ever, do you know that?" Chloe mocked. "Cards on the table, Beca! What happened last Saturday?!"

"I slept in," Beca replied immediately before leaning comfortably against the headboard.

"You slept in?"

"Yes. I slept in."

"Is that the truth?"

"You don't believe me?"

"Should I?"

"Why ask me?"

"Beca, should I?"

"I'm not in charge of your decisions."

Chloe glared at her. Her heart was filling with hate once more. No matter how hard she tried, the loathing kept going on. And like the usual _interaction-with-Beca_ ending, Chloe walked out of the room – slamming the door behind her. She held her books tight as she sprinted angrily out of Casa Bella and walked to her first class for the day.

After two hours, Chloe headed straight to the central cafeteria to grab a quick lunch before her next class starts. She was carrying a tray with croissant and a cup of tea on it when she spotted Cynthia Rose and Amy at a table. "Hey, guys. I am apologizing in behalf of my roommate for what happened last Saturday." She sat with them.

Amy chuckled and faced Cynthia Rose. "Beca couldn't get over with apologies, huh?"

Cynthia Rose gave a light smile. "Chloe, please do tell her that it's all forgiven and forgotten."

"You're only saying that because Beca gave a striking compliment on your song choices for the _Harana,_ " scoffed Amy.

Chloe hopped back into the conversation. "Wait. She what?"

Cynthia Rose chuckled. "Beca went to us early this morning and inquired if she could watch our video. We said yes so we played the little devil on my laptop and the five of us, including my roommate, watched. Afterwards, she praised our song selections and synchronization!" She beamed.

"And we learned about the emergency as well," Amy added.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Of course, her almighty alibi."

"I hope she's feeling fine. Hospitalizations are a bitch," Cynthia Rose commented.

Chloe tilted her head at the freshman in complete bafflement. "Hospitalizations?"

"Yea, Chloe. She was rushed to the E.R. on the morning of our presentation." Cynthia Rose wrinkled her nose as she began to wonder. "Wait. She didn't tell you? Haven't you spoken with her, yet?"

Chloe couldn't find the right words to reply. She obviously wasn't on the same page as the two freshmen she was talking with. "Sh-she got rushed t-to the hospital? That's w-what s-she told you?"

"Beca only said about an anonymous emergency. It was Ashley who told us about the real thing after Beca left our room earlier," Cynthia Rose explained.

She was eager to ask Amy and Cynthia Rose for further details but she thought it best to have it all heard from Beca herself. Why did she lie?

 _So she didn't come from a late-night gig last night. She was sick,_ Chloe realized.

* * *

_[2 days later…]_

Aubrey laid on her bed while she cuddled a pillow tightly. A few tears ran down her face as she bridled the rest of her pain. She was lost; she didn't know what to do. When everything started to hurt, you're left with strong desire: to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. And yet, for Aubrey, there was no hint of light afar. The tunnel seemed endless.

There was a time when the four walls of her room in the mansion used to provide ultimate comfort and refuge; once, it was a sanctuary that repulsed every throb of the knife and kept her emotionally stable. Now, it served to keep all the pain contained and threatening. It blended with the rest of the Posen mansion in shooting spears towards Aubrey's heart.

Aubrey got up from her bed and moved to her desk. She opened her laptop and tried to look for distractions. Her red, puffy eyes met the screen with such longing for signs that would foretell how everything is going to be alright. Unfortunately, all the biggest social networks she had accounts in, weren't helping. Everything redirected back to hurting.

She suddenly remembered having an unused account in _VentOut dot org._ She created a profile a year ago simply out of curiosity. Aubrey never got to explore the chatting website because she was never this miserable; she was never desperate for a random confidant… until now.

After successfully logging in, Aubrey scanned the directory of online users and opened a conversation with the first name on the list.

Golden_Emeralds: "Hey."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Hello. I'm Rykerr."  
Golden_Emeralds: "So it would seem."  
Rykerr-Spence: "What do I call you?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Aubrey."  
Rykerr-Spence: "…"  
Rykerr-Spence: "It's okay, Aubrey. You can vent out now. I'll listen."

 _For an internet stranger, you're very sensitive. I like it,_ thought Aubrey.

Golden_Emeralds: "My father got very sick. He was rushed to the hospital yesterday."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Omigod, is he okay?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "I'm not finished yet."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Sorry."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Go on…"  
Golden_Emeralds: "He's at home now. He still needs intensive care but at least the doctor gave the go signal to send him home. And I'm glad about it. At least, I can take care of him and be closer to him by distance. I'm staying at a dorm in Barden University, BTW."  
Golden_Emeralds: "Anyway, this morning I was doing a tepid sponge bath on Father since he was developing a fever. I also had our cook prepare a nutritious chicken soup for his breakfast. In short, I was busy taking care of him this morning. Everything was going well when my evil sister Regine charged in and made a hell of a mess. Her noisy heels woke Father up! And then that bitch started telling tall tales regarding the on-going debacles in the Bellas that she all accounted on my behalf. I'm not even the Captain anymore of the Bellas, for Pete's sake! Oh btw, it's an all-girl a cappella group. Of course I got so full of her shit, so I answered back and the intense arguing inside the room was ignited. I came to the point of calling her a 'fucking bastard' then Father immediately called my attention. He yelled my name aggressively and stared at me like I'm the devil in the scene. Tears pooled my eyes. That was when I walked out of his room and locked myself in mine."  
Rykerr-Spence: "…"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Okay, I'm done now."  
Rykerr-Spence: "You're probably waiting for me to ask you if you're feeling like you were never enough for anybody."

 _Wow, he's a damn psychic!_ Aubrey exclaimed in her head.

Golden_Emeralds: "I am."  
Rykerr-Spence: "I know. And I understand how it feels like – devoting your life to impressing someone and failing."  
Golden_Emeralds: "That's exactly it!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "I'm not yet finished, Aubrey."  
Golden_Emeralds: "Sorry, Rykerr."  
Rykerr-Spence: "You know your worth. You've done nothing wrong, and they don't get that. Don't mind them much for it. For now, lift your chin up, princess. Your tiara is falling."

 _Princess. He called me a princess,_ thought Aubrey.

The conversation took longer than Aubrey originally planned it to be. She liked the idea that someone shared the same pain she was having. Aubrey smiled; she got what she needed. Rykerr was a cuddly teddy bear tossed in the air… and Aubrey was the lucky little girl to catch it.

She could go on just like this for hours. Rykerr was pulling thorns off her chest. Aubrey forgot what it was like to be so dependent to someone. She was not always the one to admit that she needed help. Aubrey was grateful that today wasn't one of those proud days.

* * *

_[The next day…]_

Chloe breathed heavily as she carried a couple of academic journals that she borrowed from the library up the stairs of Casa Bella. The day was rough both for her body and her mind. She was craving for rest; she could imagine herself carelessly slumping onto the bed and drifting immediately to rest. A few more steps and she'll be in Room 222.

_A few more steps…_

"Beca!" Chloe yelped as she saw the brunette on the bed, watching television.

The freshman greeted back. "Hey, Oh-Chlo."

Chloe laid down her things and joined her roommate in bed. She cuddled her pillow as she peacefully lay on her own side of the bed.

"I barely see you in here, Beca." Chloe mumbled.

"Yeah, so I've noticed." Beca's eyes were glued to the television as she spoke.

Chloe's eyes were already shut, but she took effort in continuing with the conversation. "The last time we saw each other, you were lying about having a dog." Her voice was tired and was cracking a little bit.

Beca giggled softly. "You're tired, Oh-Chlo. Sleep."

A thought was recalled by Chloe's mind – leading her eyes to snap open. "No, I'm not." She sat up on bed and faced her roommate.

"Beca, I know why you didn't make it to the _Harana_ presentation last Saturday."

"F'course you do. I told you three days ago," replied Beca.

"No. I know the real reason."

"You didn't trust me. Ouch," Beca joked, her sight still lock to the TV screen.

"Oh, it hurt you. Good," retorted Chloe, her voice raising a little.

This time, Beca turned to Chloe's direction – her deep blue eyes meeting a pair of electric blue ones. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chloe scooted nearer. "You got rushed to the emergency room last Saturday. That was why you weren't here. Why didn't you just tell me that?"

Beca looked down to her fingers brushing along the hem of her shirt. "How'd you know about that?"

"It doesn't matter." Chloe reached for Beca's hand that rested on her lap and held it gently. "Just tell me, Becs."

Beca stared at the touch for a while. "You're trespassing," she said coldly. Chloe pulled off her hand.

The brunette turned off the TV and took a deep breath before continuing. "I sort of had an overdose on alcohol the night before that, - at a party Jackson took me to," Beca began. "My alarm went off at 4:45 the next morning as I set it up, but I didn't wake up. The noise kept going for like ten minutes straight. That was when my dad got up and checked up on me. Boom. I wasn't breathing."

Chloe cupped both her hands over her shocked expression.

"Actually I was still breathing but barely," continued Beca. "My pulse was weak as well. Dad carried me to the car and drove to the nearest hospital. He figured it was faster than dialling 911 because our house stood ten minutes away from St. Martin Medical Center. My dad was driving at a great speed at the time so we reached it in just five."

Beca chuckled. "At least, that's how my dad told the whole story. When I woke up in the hospital, it was already noon." She cracked a loud laugh when she noticed Chloe's frozen figure. "Calm down, Oh-Chlo! I got out alive, obviously!"

Chloe illogically threw a slap at Beca's arm. "Stop it, Beca! It's not funny!"

"Damn. It hurts." Beca was rubbing a hand over her arm.

"What did the doctor say?" Chloe inquired.

"I don't think I'm in the mood to get into that. You may not get the whole picture when I tell it; I'm not good with medical stuff-,"

"But I am," she cut off the brunette. "I'm taking my pre-med, remember? I can handle it. Go on, Becs."

Beca rolled her eyes and smirked. "Doc Eaton said something about my liver failing to handle all the alcohol in my body, bla bla bla… I don't know um-,"

"I get it," said Chloe. "For some reason, your liver was unable to properly metabolize and excrete the high levels of ethanol in your blood, causing overall central nervous system depression resulting in slowed heart and respiratory rate… and the poor circulation caused poor perfusion to your brain, knocking you out unconscious while you were in your sleep."

Beca stared at her with eyes wide open. "Wow. You were like, quoting Doc Eaton."

Chloe smiled. "What did Doc Eaton say about the reason your liver was a bitch?"

Beca simply shrugged.

"Remember that night when we first met?" Chloe began. "The night when you threw a left hook at Haull at the resort?"

"Yea, what about it?"

"You lied to your dad about not having a sip of alcohol," recapped Chloe. "Is that why he's so strict with your alcohol restraints? Because your liver isn't exactly… I don't know, um, perfectly functional?"

Beca stared curiously at Chloe. "I guess you can say that, yeah. But it's not like my liver's weak or something. My liver has, um, Alzheimer's – yea that's the best way to describe it! It has Alzheimer's; sometimes, it forgets the stuff it's supposed to do, that's all. It's nothing serious, to be honest. Well, except when the drinking starts."

Chloe shook her head. "I can't believe McDowell let you have too much to drink. I'm disappointed."

Beca chuckled. "McDowell wasn't at the venue, that's why I had too much. He knows about my alcohol hazards."

"Oh," muttered Chloe.

Beca grabbed the remote and switched the television back on – dismissing the whole conversation.

Chloe didn't want the talking to end. Beca finally tried to trust her with something and she wasn't the one to give up reclaiming a 'Jesse Status.'

The redhead cleared her throat before switching to another topic. "So, what's for tomorrow, Captain?"

"Hmmm?" Beca's eyes were again glued to the flashing lights of the TV screen.

"Bellas rehearsals. You kept postponing sessions since Monday," said Chloe.

"Oh, right." Beca took a deep breath. "I'm giving it a free day tomorrow… and on Saturday."

"Saturday? Beca, are you serious? Saturday as a total off-day?"

Beca faced her and nodded. "Aubrey, Denise, and Amy have to attend this leadership seminar for their academic requirements on Saturday, yeah? I'm giving it up so they won't miss anything."

Chloe's forehead creased as her eyes widened. "Becs, the seminar will run for only three hours. You can have all the girls by lunch 'til bedtime on Saturday."

"It is fine, Oh-Chlo. We can always re-schedule. I don't want the three girls to be over-exhausted on Saturday."

"Awww, would you look at that? Beca Mitchell being so sweet to her girls," joked Chloe.

Beca playfully threw the red pillow at Chloe. "Stop that! I'm not sweet!" She growled.

Chloe blushed and giggled.

"Didn't you have stuff to do tonight, Oh-Chlo? The night is still young for you to doze off already."

Chloe pondered. "I don't have deadlines. I'm free to rest."

"Okay then." Beca's sight was back to the television. "One last favor, please?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"I dropped my blanket to the floor and I accidentally kicked it towards the darkness under our bed. Can you get it for me?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "You're an awful liar, d'ya know that?"

The redhead mounted off the bed, grabbed her iPhone and ducked to inspect under the bed. The flashlight app she was using wasn't ample to give off anything so she laid on her stomach and crawled into the darkness. At long last, her iPhone gave light to a sheet of striped cloth. Chloe pulled it off and it revealed several paint cans. She forgot that she was under the bed when she screamed and quirked her head upwards with such force – causing the whole bed to shudder.

Beca immediately switched off the television and ran to Chloe. "Chloe! Are you okay?!"

"Ouch."

Beca pulled the redhead out and made her lean back against the bed frame.

"Beca, I hit my head pretty hard." Chloe gently rubbed the back of her head.

"So I gather," replied Beca. "Let me see." The brunette got to her knees and leaned over to Chloe. She gently tilted Chloe's head downwards and inspected it.

Beca's fingers brushing against the strands of her locks cued the butterflies to go rampant in Chloe's stomach. _She cares,_ thought Chloe.

"You could've just told me you bought me paint cans instead of fixing that little set up, you know?" Chloe chuckled.

"I didn't buy them," replied Beca. "They're the same paint cans you brought in last week."

Chloe pulled out from Beca's touch and stared straight in her eyes. "You said you threw them out."

"I did throw them out." Beca shrugged. "I threw them out of our room and placed them into the storage room at the basement." She smirked. "You thought I lied to you, again?"

"No. I was just-, I was-," Chloe shook her head quickly. "Don't leave out the details next time, Beca!"

The other girl chuckled as she sat comfortably on the floor. "It never occurred to me that you'd think I actually disposed my roommate's belongings."

"Why did you move the paint cans? Were you trying to get in my nerves at the time?" Chloe inquired.

"No, I wasn't. Like I said before, I couldn't breathe in here so I had to."

"You want me to buy that?" Chloe dared. "You want me to believe you got respiration problems now?" She chuckled.

"I'm really sorry," replied Beca.

It was the most sincere apology Chloe heard from the brunette. It wasn't like the previous ones; this time she felt it in herself.

"Is your head gonna be fine?" Beca asked – her voice reflecting the concern she had. "Tell me it's going to be fine."

Chloe chuckled. "I think the odds are in my favor." Beca helped her back to her feet before they both retreated to their respective sides of the bed.

"Oh-Chlo?"

"Becs?"

"Just tell me the dates when you'll be using the paint cans, yeah? So I can spend the night out of this room. I really don't like the stench." Beca's tone wasn't mocking (or anything of that sort). She was calm and was speaking softly.

"As you wish…"

Beca let out a faint chuckle before her breathing evened out with sleep.

Chloe couldn't help but think about the little adventure she had with Beca tonight. The brunette was kinder, more likeable, and _more attractive._ Beca was obviously making efforts to turn over a new leaf. Her note to her made an impact, after all.

 _I did it with just one note,_ thought Chloe as she gave herself a pat on the back.


	9. Chapter 1-9: Favorite Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect). Keep sending in reviews! They'll help me be a better writer! Thank you!

**Chapter 1-9: Favorite Escape**

Chloe stretched out as the warm rays of a good Saturday sun woke her. She stayed in bed for a while, as she reminisced the smiles and the opened gates from the previous night. She extended her right arm towards the other side of the bed and frowned when she was met with slovenly jumbled pillows and blankets. She sat up and regained her sweet smile when she spotted Beca at the floor busying herself with something.

When the brunette heard Chloe chuckle, she smirked. "Good morning, Oh-Chlo."

Chloe walked over to her. "Good mor-… BECA!" Her eyes widened.

The other girl got up to her feet and clutched a sketchpad tight against her torso. "Don't get mad." She took a big step back as the redhead attempted to seize the sketchpad from Beca's grip.

"Becs, please. Give that back," pleaded Chloe.

"But I'm not yet done with it!"

"Oh you are so done with that, Becs! Give me that!" Chloe chased her around the room, but Beca's tiny frame came to her advantage and let her move way faster. The brunette headed to the door and stood at the corridor.

"Let me borrow this, or I will display every doodle in it on the walls of Casa Bella!" Beca threatened.

Chloe froze, rolled her eyes, and retreated deep into the room. She sat on the common desk by the windows, frowning. Beca got back inside and closed the door. She sat across Chloe and continued hovering over the pages of the sketchbook. The redhead watched as her roommate laid eyes on every sketch she made in that compilation. She had never shown the book to anyone, not even to Aubrey, not even to her parents… and here Beca went – viewing them like crazy. The brunette was apparently taking pleasure in noting the fine details in Chloe's works. She watched as Beca's fingers brushed lightly over the charcoal markings.

There was this particular sketch of a red blood cell in macro view that Beca had spent the most seconds looking at.

"It's an RBC," spoke Chloe as she broke the deafening silence between them.

"I know." Beca's eyes were glued on the sketch. "I'd give your shading skills five stars."

Chloe chuckled. "I would thank you for that, but um, that wasn't exactly a product of varying my hold on the pencil. I differentiated the shades using only kneaded eraser."

Beca's mouth fell agape with Chloe's revelation. "You're not serious, are you? Wow, Oh-Chlo! I'd kneel down to this sketch of yours, but that takes too much effort."

Chloe's forehead creased. "It's not like it hasn't been done before, Becs. I don't see how you're so head over heels in love with that piece of-,"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Beca cut her off. "There is no such thing as an original idea, Oh-Chlo. The world is too old for that. It's just a matter of how you present it in another way."

"Too wise," scoffed Chloe before she chuckled.

"Why the fuck are you on your way to med school?" Beca blurted out.

Chloe narrowed her eyes in confusion. "I'm sorry. What?"

Beca leaned in a little to her. "Why are you taking a medical program instead of pursuing arts?"

"Is that really important?"

"It is. You're my roommate. It sucks that I don't know stuff about you."

Chloe filled her head with hesitation. "W-well, I d-don't know stuff about you too."

"You already had your debut move last night. My amnesiac liver isn't something I simply tell anyone, you know?"

"I thought you said that liver thing was nothing significant? Why hide it from everyone?"

Beca laid back on her seat. "It is – nothing significant, Oh-Chlo. But I don't exactly blurt it out to anyone either because idiots will have this crazy notion of thinking that I'm dying like what the hell! I only got a lazy liver, not cancer!"

Chloe looked down to her hands resting nervously at her lap. "I'm an idiot then, huh?" She spoke low.

Beca realized the mistake that came out of her mouth and backed herself up at once. "N-no! Geez, Oh-Chlo. You're not. You're different." She chuckled nervously.

 _Good enough,_ thought Chloe in her head. She illogically dismissed the topic aside with a nice note.

Silence ruled quickly around before Beca pushed through with her inquiry. "So why weren't you in an arts program, Oh-Chlo? You obviously have the talent; you obviously have the eye, the hand, the mind-set."

Chloe blushed before she could answer. She raised her head to meet the brunette's curious gaze. _Those damn deep blue irises,_ spoke she in her head. But there was no time to completely lose herself in Beca's eyes. Her roommate was waiting for an answer.

"It's what my parents wanted me take," Chloe finally confessed. "They want a doctor for a daughter."

Beca closed the sketchpad and slid it towards Chloe. "It was that easy for you?"

Chloe held an inevitable smile. Beca was reaching out to her; she was getting to know her. At that moment, she took bliss in internalizing how they shared in the same two-way communication.

"Define 'easy'," said Chloe.

"I realize I'm actually asking two things here. (1) Was it easy for you to say yes to them? (2) Was it easy for you to accept the direction you're headed to?"

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut as she carefully said her words. "Yes, and… y-yes."

"Wrong," replied Beca immediately. She was looking straight into her eyes, searching for something, anything.

Chloe was taken aback. "What? You can read me now?" She mocked. Yet at the core of her heart, Chloe found herself at truth. _Yes, Beca. You can read me. Say that you can read me._

"N-not exactly," stuttered Beca as her gaze was being met by widened electric blue eyes.

_No. You just read me, Becs. That's the connection we have. You can see right through me._

Beca broke the exchange of looks. "Are you happy with the way things are, Oh-Chlo?"

"Vague question."

"Are you happy being a pre-med student? Are you happy with what you do?"

"Both yes."

"Wrong again."

Chloe leaned forward. "Just because you stared into my eyes for one second, doesn't mean you can already see my choices."

Beca's eyes locked with Chloe's. "I didn't see your choices. I saw your doubt."

Chloe slouched back in her chair and looked down once more. "I love the arts, I really do. I just don't think I'll excel in that particular field. I have my logic and reasoning and it suits me just fine."

"I've seen the way you envision the renovation of this house, Oh-Chlo. I've witnessed your clever wardrobe choices. I've experienced your persnickety ear for music. I've known the endless horizon of your artistic visions," said Beca. "I think I surpass that fallacious argument of yours."

Chloe blushed even more. "I also have paintings. I'd show them to you right now, but it's in my secret safe here in this room." She laughed.

Beca shrugged. "I have my ways, don't worry."

The conversation continued for the next fifteen minutes. Chloe told Beca all about her family and her childhood: the harmonious relationship between her parents, their three-storey house, the photo albums her mom kept containing memories of their family trips, and many other things that the brunette found so carefree and uplifting to hear about. It wasn't the reminiscing per se that made Chloe smile but the fact that Beca was actually enjoying being told stories about her life.

The chat got halted when Beca invited Chloe to the dining area and have breakfast with the rest of the girls. They were descending the stairs when Aubrey was on her way up.

"Well, good morning, Head Bitch!" Aubrey greeted, stopping the two from their pace.

Beca sardonically grinned at her direction.

"So," Aubrey began as she looked up to the brunette standing at a higher level before her. "What's your almighty plan for the Bellas?"

"I have none yet," replied Beca immediately before she continued taking steps down the stairs. Aubrey held her by her elbow. "Hey! I'm not done talking to you, Beca!"

Beca and Chloe, now on a lower level on the staircase, stopped again and faced the blonde. Beca sighed. "What is it, Posen?"

"When I ask you of your agenda, you give me a sensible answer! You get that?!" Aubrey glared at Beca.

The freshman rolled her eyes. "What part of _'I have none yet'_ was not sensible?"

"You're the Head Bitch! You should always have a plan! You should always be filled with ideas! Why don't you – get your little rookie ass up your room and mull things over, huh?!" Aubrey folded her arms arrogantly.

Beca's fists clenched hard. She was starting to breathe fast. "Well blondie, why don't you go to your own room and kiss your-,"

"Girls! Quit it!" Chloe stood between them. "Give it a rest! It's a Saturday morning!"

The arguing women threw one last furious gaze at each other before Aubrey walked away first. Chloe held Beca's hand and led her to the dining area. "Breathe, Beca. Breathe. Aubrey won't be worth your anger."

Aubrey slammed the door hard and locked herself in the room she shared with Stacie. After about two minutes of pacing up and down, she sat on her desk and decided to have her favorite form of escape: _VentOut dot org._ She logged in as Golden_Emeralds and smiled when she saw Rykerr Spence online.

Golden_Emeralds: "Rykerr!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Hey there! What's up?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "I am this close to smacking a brunette's head to cold tarmac!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Brunette? Who is it?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "I've told you about a certain brunette yesterday, Rykerr. You seriously don't remember her name?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Uhhh, sorry. I got memory problems, hehe."  
Golden_Emeralds: "Beca fucking Mitchell. That's her name."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Beca?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "What kind of reaction is that, Rykerr?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Oh, nothing. Hahahaha. I'm just fond of overreacting sometimes. Don't worry Golden_Emeralds!"  
Golden_Emeralds: "I told you not to address me by my username. I like my name."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Alright then, Aub.  
Rykerr-Spence: "What did Beca do this time, anyway?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Same old, same old. She's the Queenie Bitch of all bitches. I asked her of her plans for the Bellas and she dismissed me easily, saying she doesn't have any. What kind of leader does not have any plans at all?!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Maybe she has ideas already but hasn't made up her mind yet."  
Golden_Emeralds: "We have not had any rehearsal this past week, Rykerr! And it's starting to bother me! The Bellas have never been this lax before!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Oh. I see.  
Rykerr-Spence: "So, you girls are off for the whole day?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "We are."  
Rykerr-Spence: "You don't seem very happy about it. Aren't you required to attend a leadership seminar today? This Saturday should be a blessing then, instead of a curse."  
Golden_Emeralds: "That seminar will push through. Plus, it's only for three hours. The rest of this Saturday will be put to waste by actually skipping on any form of enrichment for the Bellas!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "You're really committed to your a cappella group, aren't you?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Now you see why Regine made a huge mistake replacing me as Captain."  
Rykerr-Spence: "Hahaha. Don't stress yourself too much, Aubrey."  
Golden_Emeralds: "I can't get that little tick off my head! What do I do?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Talk about other things!"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Hmmm…"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Hold it!"  
Golden_Emeralds: "What now?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Have you tried the latest feature of _VentOut_ yet?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Latest feature? What latest feature?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "It caters to voice communication now!"  
Golden_Emeralds: "Aca-awesome! Let's try it, Rykerr!"  
Rykerr-Spence: "Already on it!"

Aubrey excitingly searched for her external microphone and headphones. After installing the equipment, Aubrey frantically located the voice button on the screen and clicked it. A small window popped up, asking her to choose a voice effect that will alter how her voice will sound in Rykerr's speakers.

Golden_Emeralds: "Um, Rykerr?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "One sec! Can't find my microphone!"  
Golden_Emeralds: "It's okay. Take your time. I'm just curious about why my settings won't allow me to start voice chat."  
Rykerr-Spence: "It won't? Why?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "It won't let me proceed without actually choosing a voice effect… and I don't want to use effects."  
Rykerr-Spence: "That's the thing, Aubrey. _VentOut_ doesn't want us to use our real voices. Tricky, huh?"  
Golden_Emeralds: "What sound effect are you choosing, then?"  
Rykerr-Spence: "I always click _'random.'_ I like the thrill of not knowing ahead whether or not I will sound hilarious.  
Rykerr-Spence: "Excuse me for a minute, Aubrey. I have to borrow my dad's microphone."  
Golden_Emeralds: "Sure thing!"

After a short while, a high-pitched robotic voice resounded in Aubrey's ears.

"Hey Aubrey!"

Aubrey laughed. "Rykerr! You sound like a robot!"

"Oh I do now?" He chuckled. Then he started speaking monotonously to deepen the joke. "Hello. My name is Rykerr. I am an android."

Aubrey kept laughing hard. "The weird thing is that, your voice was switched to a very high key. I never thought a robot's voice can be that high!"

"High-pitched robotic voice, I like it!" Rykerr exclaimed. "And you my dear, sound like a febrile extra-terrestrial creature."

"Vague, Rykerr. Vague. How does a febrile extra-terrestrial creature sound like, anyway?"

"I don't know! I just feel like you sound one." He giggled.

Aubrey took one deep breath to recover from laughing. "Where were we?"

"You were about to tell me about something," replied Rykerr.

"Oh, right." Aubrey cleared her throat. "My roommate, Stacie, went back to Casa Bella with a serious hangover from last night's fraternity party. Before she hit the sheets, she told me this one intriguing story that happened at the party."

Rykerr cleared his throat. "Are you sure you're okay telling an internet stranger about your roommate?"

"Oh, it's fine. She told the story as if it was a big joke, anyway. I don't think she'll mind… And you're not exactly a stranger anymore, Rykerr."

Rykerr chuckled at the end of the line. "Cool," was all he could mutter.

"So," continued Aubrey. "There was this Treblemaker guy that she used to meet in the woods. He was at the same party the previous night. There were drinks and, wait for it… _Spin the Bottle!_ "

"Uh-oh. Bad combination."

"I know, right?!" Aubrey exclaimed. "So they both joined and when it was Stacie's turn to spin, the bottle pointed on him. She gave him the kiss and from that short but wet kiss, more events sprouted. They looked for an empty room in the frat house and sang karaoke for one good hour. The Treble stole a kiss and bam! Lights out. Clothes off. You know what happened next."

Rykerr stuttered. "A-are you s-sure it w-was okay f-for me to hear that? I mean, why do you even find her story funny?"

Aubrey chuckled. "It's fine, Rykerr! Stop worrying. She thought it was funny, so I thought it was funny. From that experience, Stacie developed this little theorem about the difference between entertaining a frat boy and a Treble."

"Well, Aubrey. Your roommate sure is-," Rykerr got cut off by the sudden knock he heard from Aubrey's room. "Woah. I think someone wants in."

The knock on Aubrey's door went non-stop, following no rhythm which made it slightly annoying. "Aubrey! Open up!"

"Ugh! It's Beca. Excuse me for a while, Rykerr. I'll just dispose of her." Aubrey heard a faint laugh before she removed her headphones off her ears. She grunted in vexation and went to open the door.

"What is it now, Beca?!"

The smaller girl looked down, her mouth pouting and her brows reflecting resentment. Both her hands hid behind her. When Aubrey noticed this, she nervously took one step back. "Beca, if that's a knife you're holding, I'm going to have to warn you! I know _Karate!_ " The blonde raised her tightly-spread out palms in front of her.

Beca slowly brought her left hand upfront, revealing a cupcake in her grip. She held it out to Aubrey without saying a word.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes in confusion and returned to her normal stance. "That's poisoned, isn't it?"

Beca, with the mad look still evident in her face, shook her head. Aubrey deduced her facial expression as hate that was surprisingly not directed towards her. It was a different kind of glare – as if knocking on her door was something Beca was forced to do. The blonde slowly received the cupcake from Beca's held out arm. Beca walked off right after. When Aubrey closed the door, she heard Beca yell along the corridor.

"There, Chloe! I gave the apologetic cupcake already! You happy now?!" Followed by loud slamming of another door.

Aubrey shook her head playfully and giggled, took a bite of the cupcake, and returned to her desk.

* * *

_[5 days later…]_

Beca lost herself in the music she was creating. Headphones were glued to her ear, and her fingers busied themselves with the controls of the mixer in front of her. She bobbed her head along with the beat, letting the disco lights highlight her passion. The club crowd was going crazy; everyone was hyped at the dance floor – losing themselves in Beca's mix as well.

Beca's previous gig didn't end on a nice note; she ended up breaking Gregory Haull's nose. It's been quite a while, and now that she's utilizing the opportunity Luke Jackson gave her, she counted the night as one of her best ones yet. It was her favorite form of escape. All her worries were brushed behind, and nothing mattered to Beca at the moment. This was the bliss music always brought her.

As she finished her last set for the night, Beca took a deep breath as she prepared herself for the return of all her burden.

She climbed down the stage and happily headed towards McDowell's mobile bar, but before she could settle herself, Haull mockingly threw an arm around her neck. "Hey, babe!"

Beca shoved him off. "Don't let me break your nose again, Haull… Or did you want me to break something else in you?" She retorted.

Haull led her to the bar and ordered two Martini shots. "Why are you here being an idiot?! Weren't you satisfied with stealing most of my gigs?! I don't like Martini, by the way," said Beca, her voice vibrating with escalating annoyance.

The Treblemaker ignored her and shifted to a new subject. "So, how are the Bellas doing? Ready for more humiliation?"

Beca threw a deadly glare at him. "Actually… yes. I'd love to see you covered in filthy mud – overwhelmed by all the humiliation an idiot can have in his entire life."

Haull was too smug about successfully annoying Beca. "I dare you to… if you can." He cast a devious smirk. "Next month. Theta Pi house. Bring your Bella minions with you and watch us tackle you with our _Annual Voices Show-off_ first place trophy."

Before Beca could reply to his invitation, McDowell returned with the drinks. Haull picked up his glass and stood. "I'll be expecting your ass there, Beca. Prepare to lose awfully."

He took off, saying "Enjoy your Martini!" as he walked away.

Beca leaned over and rested her chin against the back of her hand as it lay flat on the counter. McDowell placed another glass in front of her. "Bourbon Lancer for Deejay Beca."

The brunette found herself smiling sweetly at the bartender. "What about that Martini?"

McDowell shrugged. "Well, there's this party girl though – who orders at least 3 shots of it when she's here. She'll be grabbing your Martini any second now."

Beca chuckled. "Thanks, McDowell… for the Bourbon."

* * *

_[The next day…]_

The Bellas were eating breakfast at Casa Bella. Chloe wondered where Beca was while Aubrey kept talking about Rykerr Spence and their voice chats all throughout the week. Everyone was enjoying their food when Ashley charged in and started yelling.

"BELLAS! You need to see this! Come, quick!" She gestured for them to follow her, and the rest of the girls did. Ashley led them to the third floor of Casa Bella, which had had the sign board _'No entry'_ at the entrance ever since the house renovation started… Well, not until now.

Aubrey and Chloe rushed in front, and were surprised to be met with a panorama. Before them stood two accomplished rooms: a recording studio with full equipment at the left, and a dance studio complete with mirrors and bars on the other side.

"Wow. Just… wow." Chloe said as she stared around with wide eyes.

The girls roamed around the floor, admiring delicacy of the set-up. Aubrey, still stunned, froze at the middle of the dance studio. "This is so rich, Beca. So fucking rich."


	10. Chapter 1-10: Cornflakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I do not own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the movie Pitch Perfect.)

**Chapter 1-10: Cornflakes**

Chloe beamed when she spotted Beca at her desk, busying herself with a mix. She closed the door behind her and walked over to the brunette, silently watching from behind. Chloe suddenly grabbed Beca's headphones and took it off her head – startling the freshman.

"Boo!"

"Oh-Chlo! What the hell?!" Beca stood and faced the redhead, only to find her hiding the wireless headphones behind her back. Chloe sported a playful grin, which Beca responded to with a half glare.

"Loosen up, Becs!" She handed it back to Beca.

"I told you not to touch any of my stuff." Beca spoke low before facing her laptop again. Sighing, she closed the lid and laid the headphones beside it.

"You're not gonna let me hear your stuff?" Chloe inquired.

Beca walked to their bed, opening the television as she settled comfortably against the headboard. "I don't like people hearing my stuff."

"But you play mixes in Jackson's events," replied Chloe.

"Those mixes are different from the ones I spin with my own equipment. The ones on my drive are special."

 _And I happen to be the one without the privilege to your special stuff,_ thought Chloe in her head as she frowned.

"The studios were beautiful, by the way." Chloe shifted the core of the conversation as she joined the brunette in bed. "Aubrey was most appalled yesterday morning. She spent about two hours babbling about how the Bellas can have better rehearsals at the new venue."

Beca chuckled. "Now, the Bellas can ditch the ol' gym and have a more decent place to practice in."

Chloe couldn't agree more. It was probably the best thing that's ever happened to the Bellas during her entire stay.

"I'm actually planning on making the annex a mini auditorium," continued Beca – her eyes locked on the TV (as usual). "You know, so we can have mini performances for guests."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Beca, you don't have to. That would already be too much."

"Wasn't asking for your permission, Oh-Chlo." She faced the redhead. "Too bad the workmen already know what to do with it." She smirked.

Chloe smiled. Everything that had changed in Casa Bella was a mere reflection of all she ever dreamed about. "Seat capacity?"

"100 cushioned chairs."

"Sweet!"

"Yeah."

There was a short silence before Chloe had the guts to open another topic. "Becs, it's been two weeks since our last rehearsals. What do you have for today?" She asked calmly.

Beca simply shook her head.

"Becs?"

Beca didn't move – making Chloe fill with anger. The brunette laughed at the joke from the television – completely putting Chloe into invisibility. The redhead illogically went and unplugged the TV from the electrical outlet. Enraged Beca had her mouth falling agape.

"You know what?!" Chloe started, her voice louder… and angrier. "Nothing has changed, Beca! You'll always be that bitch everyone in this place loathes! Aubrey was right. A good leader always have plans. And you don't even have ideas!"

"Oh-Chlo, I-,"

"Save it!"

"Chloe, don't cut me off!" Her voice was pleading. She was pleading for her to listen. She was pleading for Chloe to try two things: (1) to believe in her and, (2) to understand her.

"Why? So more shit can come out of your mouth?!"

"Chloe-,"

Beca found her chest compressing a little at the sound of the door slamming very hard following Chloe's exit.

 _I seriously don't know what to do,_ Beca thought.

She curled in bed as tears flowed out of her eyes. Chloe was mad at her again. Everything she did seem to have set the redhead off. If there was one girl in Casa Bella who Beca hated to see with anger, it was Chloe. So far, she was doing an awful job at it. Chloe was upset at her and she always will be.

 _She always will be,_ thought Beca.

* * *

_[Later at night…]_

Stacie walked briskly along the woods, her flashlight highlighting the guide wires Donald had set for her. There was another party at the Theta Pi house but she decided to go home early. The way Donald made marks on the trees was a big help; since then, she had always reached Casa Bella faster than usual. Walking by same correct path also gave Stacie the warm comfort of not hearing anonymous sounds from a distance. Well, she had heard tiny noises but they were always from Donald sneaking behind the marked trees.

There was some rustling behind her. Stacie paused. She rolled her eyes and turned around. "Hey, Donald."

The Treble grinned. "Hey."

Stacie returned his greeting with folded arms and a sarcastic smile.

"Please don't tell me you can't make for a short talk right now." Donald squeezed his eyes shut and playfully raised crossed fingers.

Stacie chuckled. "Walk with me?"

Donald lit his torch and journeyed the woods with Stacie.

"Last night was great, by the way," commented Stacie.

Donald smiled. "You were great for two consecutive nights."

The two had agreed on a casual relationship since the night they played _Spin the Bottle_ at a party. Donald worried that he might be getting Stacie into trouble by sleeping with her, but the tall brunette assured him she'll be fine; the Bellas had a turnover of authority and the traditional _'no sexual relationship with a Treble'_ had been revoked for a while now.

The twigs snapping as they both took their own steps became the only sounds around the vicinity. Stacie had nothing more to say to the Treble and was humming a song in her head. Donald on the other hand, had one more agenda – and he was trying to build up the courage to spill it out. He held Stacie's hand – stopping both of them from their pace. Donald reached into his jacket and a majestic red rose revealed itself. He took a small sniff of it before gently handing it over to the Bella.

"What's this?" Stacie inquired – completely baffled.

"This would be me, asking you out to dinner." He smiled.

Stacie froze. She opened her mouth and tried to speak but no words came out. It wasn't a lovely surprise; suddenly, everything about the two of them blurred boundaries. _'No strings attached'_ meant no connections forming… and this definitely, was a panorama of attached strings.

"Stace?" Donald's eyes were full of hope. He liked the Bella from the very first time they met in the woods.

"Goodbye, Donald." It was rude – what she just said; she knew it was uncouth. There were nicer ways by which she could've rejected him, and this wasn't one of those.

Stacie walked the rest of the path by herself. She couldn't do what Donald expected her to do; she just couldn't.

* * *

Beca went to the third floor and entered the recording studio. She took a good stare around and smirked. She headed straight to the booth and sat. Her eyes were shut and she was humming a tune. Her body craved for alcohol; for escape. She had not seen Chloe since she walked out this morning.

Her attempt to be at peace with herself got halted by soft knocking. Beca turned her chair around and saw Cynthia Rose standing by the door frame.

"May I come in?" She smiled at the brunette.

Beca gestured for her to sit with her.

"What's up?" Beca inquired, trying to sound happy.

Cynthia Rose took a deep breath. "We need you, Capt," she began. "Badly."

Beca raised her head to meet Cynthia Rose's begging gaze. "Oh, right. I'm a bitch for not having plans for the Bellas." She frowned as Chloe's hurtful words resounded in her head.

The other freshman slowly shook her head as she threw a half smile. "You're not. You're our new Captain who is confused and does not know what to do to make her girls like her."

Taken aback, Beca leaned back to her chair. "Well that's new."

"Was I right?"

Beca looked down and nodded shamefully.

"You know," Cynthia Rose continued. "I have a PhD in listening." She threw a friendly smirk, which Beca returned with a sweet smile.

"Spill?"

"Spill!"

"Chloe is mad at me." Beca's voice sang a tune of sadness. "She was mad at me for being so strict with rehearsals. Everyone was mad at me for being so strict. Then I tried to change plans and gave free days whenever one of my girls needed to be out for any reason. I tried to become accommodating, but Oh-Chlo still hates me.

"It's like – when I do something, she gets mad at me, and when I don't do anything, she still gets mad at me. Nothing seems to make her like me. It's hard to have a roommate who hates you."

Cynthia Rose chuckled. "Chloe doesn't hate you. She's actually very worried about you."

Beca narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Well, she sounded so concerned this morning," she mocked.

"I heard her at lunch today. She's worried that a lot has been bothering you and that since you won't let her in, she couldn't get a way to help you."

Her statement made Beca stand from her chair and pace up and down the booth. "Wow! What a martyr! And that came from the girl who's fond of cutting me off when I try to actually speak!" She raised her annoyed voice.

Cynthia Rose remained calm in her seat. "I don't know the issue between Chloe and you, but I think you need to sort it out as soon as possible. You can't stay mad at her for-,"

"I'm not mad at her," Beca blurted out. "I couldn't be mad at her. I don't know why."

The other girl smiled. "I know why." She leaned back to her chair. "Beneath that tough attitude hides a big, kind heart."

Beca paused from her pace and fondled the buttons on the control panel in the booth. "You're wrong. If that were the case, I would've also found it hard to bitch with Aubrey and Stacie."

"I'm right. I know I'm right. Whatever your story is, it's suppressing your real kindness in some ways. You're not a bitch." Cynthia Rose chuckled. "You never were. It's probably all just a mask." She stood and headed for the door.

"I don't know what to do, Rosie."

Cynthia Rose paused and turned back to her. "Yeah, you do. Either that, or you're just about to figure out." She smiled sweetly at the other freshman. "You don't need anyone to be a good leader – that's how strong you are."

And with those last words, Cynthia Rose was gone and Beca was left pondering in the booth.

 _We need you, Capt – badly,_ Cynthia Rose's words echoed inside Beca's head.

* * *

_[Meanwhile…]_

Chloe was staring at a white wall with kitchen knives of different sizes and colors stabbed all over it so that its handles spelled _"Life is Beautiful."_ It was an art of about eleven feet in height and was one of the dominating entries in the gallery.

The redhead could not get Beca off her head. She knew she had to say what needed to be said but she could not stop herself from thinking if she had gone too far. _The International Art Expo_ at the local museum was something Chloe awaited for excitingly over the past weeks. She skipped on a couple of meals during the start of the academic year so that she could buy an entrance ticket to the event. Chloe supposed that indulging herself in the various works of art in the gallery would make her forget about Beca, – that the art expo would be the ultimate distraction. Unfortunately, Beca Mitchell was the core of her thoughts all night.

A guy in dark blue plaid shirt stood beside Chloe. He scribbled continuously in his pocket notebook as he took glances of the knife art. "Artist… Farhad Marshri, Iranian," the guy spoke to himself as he wrote the words.

"Moshiri," Chloe corrected. "Farhad Moshiri, not Marshri."

"Oh… Thanks." He crossed out his mistake and re-wrote what Chloe said.

Chloe stared at him as he did. She tilted her head at him as she studied the features of his face. "Jesse?"

He met her gaze. "Do I know you, miss?"

Chloe smiled. "I'm Beca's roommate."

"Chloe! Right!" Jesse beamed as he dug into memory lane.

"I didn't know you're an art enthusiast as well," she commented after Jesse finished jotting things down.

Jesse chuckled. "Not much, actually. My mom's part of the organizing committee of this expo and I'm supposed to drive her home so I have to wait 'til this whole thing's over. And to kill time, I decided to roam around."

"Still. The fact that no one forced you to take down notes of the art entries categorizes you as an _'art'_ guy."

Jesse shook his head. "I'm no _'art'_ guy. I only entertain these works of art so I can practice generating themes and underlying messages by the artists. I'm into OST's; someday I want to be that guy behind movie soundtracks. And to be a great one, I need to master playing with themes."

"Yeah, Beca once told me you're kind of obsessed with soundtracks."

" _Obsessed?_ Is that the word she uses?" Jesse laughed.

Chloe's forehead creased. "Well, according to Beca, you could immediately tell whether the film composer was from Europe or American…"

"Yeah, I can."

"So, what are you? A _John Williams_ guy? Or are you a _Hans Zimmer_ one?"

Jesse smiled as his head filled with good impression of the redhead. "Well, aren't you full of surprises, Chloe? I didn't know you bite classical music as well."

"I bite any form of art." Chloe shrugged. "So, Williams or Zimmer?"

"I usually go for European musicians but between the two options you presented, I'd have to go for John Williams… I'll always go for John Williams!" Jesse noticed the uncomfortable look on Chloe's face. " _Oooppps._ Sorry. I didn't realize you were a _Zimmer_ kid."

"I'm not."

"Then what's your cup of tea?"

Chloe bit her lower lip as her face grew a more queasy expression. "I-, uh I-don't… You'll judge me for it!"

Jesse sank his hands into the pocket of his jeans. "No, I won't! I promise I won't. Feel free to spill it out."

Chloe held her breath for two seconds before squealing "Yann Tiersen."

Jesse's eyes widened and he illogically blurted "What?!" out loud. He immediately noticed the little attention he grabbed from the gallery and cuffed a hand over his mouth.

"You told me you wouldn't judge!" Chloe slapped a hand to his arm.

Jesse spoke half-whispering, "Chloe, he's not even a legit film composer! You know he isn't!"

"Yeah, but I have a thing for French musicians," replied Chloe – embarrassed. "And I really liked his _Amelie OST._ "

Jesse raised an eyebrow at her. "Chloe, I was asking for your favorite composer. I'm pretty sure you can see the thick line between a composer and a musician."

"Okay, fine. All kidding aside, I'm a _Desplat_ girl."

"Desplat. Good pick."

Chloe chuckled. "It's cool, though – how you reacted to Tiersen. Most _OST-enthusiast-hopefuls_ would simply nod at the very sound of his name."

"Woah. So that was a test that I passed?"

Chloe bit a finger. "You're not mad, are you?"

Jesse crunched his nose as he smiled. "Nahhh. Let me have my payback, though." He cleared his throat as he faced Moshiri's art. "What does this knife art tell you?"

"What does it tell you, Jesse?"

"I asked you first."

"Whatever you're thinking is most certainly wrong… if not, superficial," scoffed Chloe.

Jesse folded his arms. "Yeah? Fine. Let's see. Um, Moshiri used knives to spell _'Life is beautiful'_ to highlight the paradox of using every day, lethal objects to present a positive statement. It's basically sarcasm, so to say."

Chloe chuckled. "I knew it. Superficial."

"Then what's your take in this, _Michaelangelo?_ "

Chloe took a deep breath. "It's more than just easy sarcasm. It's a deeper representation of the thought that - how come something that brings pain can create something beautiful?"

"Woah… I never saw it that way," Jesse muttered.

Chloe expounded on her interpretation. "These knives make the white wall mean something. With just one knife stabbed on it, the white wall is plain, boring, uninteresting."

"The same goes with life," continued Jesse. "With no much painful trials, life is plain, boring, uninteresting."

Chloe nodded. "Exactly."

"Wow, you're basically the definition of _'art enthusiast,'_ Chloe," complimented Jesse. "Just like Beca described."

Chloe's brows arched as he mentioned the brunette. "Beca has told you stuff about me?"

"Uh-uh. Tons of cool stuff, actually." Jesse leaned in a little closer to her. "Just between us two? I think she likes you."

Chloe blushed.

"You're speechless… so you must like her back," Jesse continued.

"I'm really that obvious, aren't I?" Chloe joked.

Jesse chuckled.

Chloe took the perfect opportunity to ask Jesse about Beca. The Treble was delighted that they started on that topic. He invited Chloe to a nearby coffee shop and settled there to talk.

"I can't get her to trust me," Chloe started.

Jesse took a sip of his mint tea. "Maybe, it's because you don't trust her back."

Chloe sighed. "I- I don't understand."

"There must be some things Beca told you that you are doubting, Chloe. It's Beca we're talking about here, so there must be. So what is it?"

"Remember when she got rushed to the E.R. last week? She told me she has this dysfunctional liver…"

"And?"

"And she said it was nothing… Jesse, a dysfunctional liver isn't nothing!"

Jesse laughed. "So, you don't believe her words. I told you – it's simply a problem of reciprocating trust."

"Jesse, is Beca dying?"

Jesse laughed even louder. "She's not dying, for Pete's sake! Chloe, when she told you her liver thing was nothing to worry about, it really was nothing to worry about. You can go ask Mr. Mitchell for confirmation."

Chloe took Jesse's words in and accepted the probability that she was simply overreacting.

"The only thing you need to worry about, is Beca having too much alcohol. Keep her caged and she's fine," added Jesse.

He leaned in to her from across the table. "Listen, Chloe. I really like you for Beca. The fact that she's told you about the liver thing? It simply implies that you mean to her more than everybody else. That should put you out of anxiety zone. It's not Beca's habit to disappoint people that matter to her."

"That doesn't assure she's going to just tell me honest stuff." Chloe frowned.

Jesse tapped his fingers playfully at the table before speaking. "Here's a tip: Beca's favorite breakfast is her bowl of cornflakes, yeah? Catch her eating and seize her beloved cornflakes. It's the perfect blackmail. You can actually find yourself drowning with genuine Beca Mitchell answers."

"That really works?!" Chloe inquired enthusiastically.

He nodded. "That strategy got me knowing first when she started drinking." He took a generous nip of his mint tea. "Plus, you can get her to agree on anything."

"Oh, can I?" Chloe was like a little kid excited to enter the playground.

Jesse shrugged. "Depends on how much she cherishes her cornflakes… For the record though, Beca really loves her cornflakes."

"But I seldom catch her at breakfast," she started to frown.

"That's because she eats earlier than the rest of you. Before Beca cooks breakfast for the Bellas, she eats her own meal first. She's not used to eating with a lot of people, that's why."

It all made sense now. Chloe used to think that Beca loathed breakfast meals. It never occurred to her that Beca eats before she does the Bellas' breakfast. She ate alone (while everyone else slept) so that she wouldn't have to endure the burden of having to talk to people at meal time.

Chloe smiled. "I'm really glad we had this conversation."

"Yeah, me too," replied Jesse after he chuckled. "At least I know she's taken good care of at Casa Bella… Less babysitting chores for me."

Chloe laughed. She took pleasure in thinking that she was already doing the same thing: looking out for Beca. And she's important to Beca – that's big.

_The Jesse Status, huh…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. So what do you guys think of this chapter? It wasn't um, 'hurried,' was it?


	11. Chapter 1-11: We Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Keep the reviews coming! They'll help me improve as a writer! Thanks for reading! This will be the last chapter for the first part!!

**Chapter 1-11: We Good**

_[Two days later…]_

"Alright, Bellas! Listen up!" Aubrey yelled.

The girls in the dance studio gathered before her. They were all in their comfortable working clothes – ready for some moves… and possible cardio. The day had already been stressful to most of them so the atmosphere wasn't really enthusiastic at the moment. Everyone hated Monday afternoons.

"Aubrey, what is this?" Chloe inquired.

Aubrey rested her hands proudly on her hips. "It's time we get our heads back into the game. I'm assigning tasks for Sectionals."

"Don't you think it's too early to be planning for Sectionals, Aubrey?" Stacie hopped in.

Aubrey shook her head. "If we want to be champions, we have to work hard."

Chloe cleared her throat. "You must be forgetting… You're not captain anymore; Beca is."

The blonde's lime green eyes narrowed over at Chloe's direction. "Well, she's not here, is she? She hasn't been here as captain for the past two weeks… has she?

"Well I'm here to save our sorry asses from a horrible _crash and burn_ incident," continued Aubrey when Chloe didn't return her inquiries.

Aubrey checked the attendance and grunted in vexation when she realized Cynthia Rose wasn't around. She reminded the Bellas of the golden rule: _Don't be tardy or pay fifteen bucks._ She gestured for the girls to settle down on the floor and held out a small sheet of paper from her pocket. As she began speaking again, Beca walked in, wearing working clothes as well.

"Sorry I'm late," Beca said.

Chloe found herself smiling and blushing at the sight of the brunette. _Some things really never change,_ she thought.

The rest of the Bellas owned widened eyes; they were taken aback by the brunette's entrance. It had been two weeks since Beca associated with the group regarding Bella matters. The last time she did, she got everyone else pissed for ditching them off.

Beca dropped her face towel and water jug before approaching Aubrey's stance. "Well?" Beca said when the blonde didn't move an inch after she stood before the rest of the Bellas. "I'm here now."

Aubrey was burning holes at Beca with her furious glare. Tight-lipped, she folded her arms and continued gazing angrily at the freshman. Stacie got up from the floor and went over to where the two girls stood. She gently took Aubrey's hand and led her to sit with the rest of the Bellas. It had been a while since the last time Aubrey and Beca fought for authority.

Beca discussed the _Annual Voices Show-off_ event to be held at the Theta Pi auditorium. She told them that she already had the Bellas signed into the competition and were to fight against the Treblemakers, the BU Harmonics, and the High Notes. Beca argued that the competition will give the group good exposure to the public.

The Theta Pi fraternity held the annual friendly competition since 2003, but it wasn't until weeks ago that it blossomed to be a big upcoming event. For the first time, they announced the registration open to all a cappella groups; on the previous years, contestants were all handpicked and invited by the heads of the fraternity.

It was the very same competition that Haull challenged Beca to but Beca argued to the girls instead that the reason why she signed the Bellas up was that so they could have good exposure as a group.

Beca exited the dance studio to get her laptop from Room 222 after disclosing the competition's details. While the rest of the Bellas took a short break in her absence, Cynthia Rose barged in – panting. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to come in very late but-,"

Aubrey cut her off. "No excuses. You're late. Pay up. Come on. Fifteen bucks." Aubrey held out her hand as she waited for the freshman to hand in her penalty fine.

Cynthia Rose hesitated for a while before stuttering, "I-I can't p-pay today. I don't h-have a penny right n-now. S-sorry." She looked down and covered herself with shame.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "F'course you don't have cash right now," she jeered. "You spend everything in gambling! Maybe next time, you'll knock some sense into your brain and quit that crazy habit of yours!"

"Aubrey!" Chloe yelled from her stance. Everyone else in the dance studio silenced down at the turn of events.

"Shut it, Chloe!" Aubrey yelled back before turning to face Cynthia Rose again. "Your little gambling attitude doesn't have a place here in the Bellas, especially if it makes you tardy and financially broke. Got it?" Her voice was hard.

The voice that responded wasn't Cynthia Rose's. "Yes. She gets it, Aubrey," said Beca mockingly as she leaned against the doorframe. Apparently, she was listening the whole time.

Cynthia Rose turned and smiled when she saw Beca dressed for rehearsals. The brunette walked over to her and addressed Aubrey one last time, "Your obsession with online chatting doesn't have a place in the Bellas as well, you know? Especially if it makes you… Mmmm…" Beca tapped her chin as if she was really thinking "More… _blonde…_ and annoying," she retorted. She had been hearing stories about Aubrey's growing friendship with an online stranger. Every time, at breakfast, Aubrey would talk enthusiastically about how admirable _Rykerr Spence_ was.

Aubrey's fists clenched hard. Everyone else were taken aback by Beca's words. Realizing she was helpless, Aubrey walked out of the dance studio.

 _Bad move, Becs. Bad move,_ thought Chloe in her head.

"One bitch out!" Beca perked up with a happy tone as the blonde senior left. "Let's start rehearsals!" She went to assemble her laptop to the stereo and began with the set list she had prepared for the show-off.

* * *

_[Later that night…]_

Stacie stayed in bed as she listened to a playlist. Beca ended the rehearsals early so the night was too young for her. Nothing seemed interesting to her at the moment. Aubrey was quiet in her own little world. After an encounter with Beca, the blonde would usually pace up and down the room… and rant endlessly. Tonight she was silent, their room was silent. There was no noise around except for the tapping of keyboard keys that Aubrey's finger made – instead of ranting out loud, the blonde decided to let it all out on Rykerr Spence.

Stacie rolled her eyes. She liked her roommate better when she was raucous with words rather than as a young adult addicted with online chatting.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed. Stacie went to pick it up and sighed when she saw Donald's name on the screen.

_"Stace. Meet me in the woods in ten minutes. Tell ya something. ~Donald"_

She didn't want to further receive any of Donald's romantic gestures. That was probably what the meeting would be about. She had had enough of make-out buddies falling for her. But she was bored at the moment, and the night was still young, - so she decided to go.

"No roses this time, okay?" Stacie muttered as he approached the Treble leaning against a tree.

Donald chuckled and shook his head. "No roses."

Stacie hid her hands in the pockets of her sweater to combat the night's chill. "What's up?"

"You're not the commitment type of girl, are you?" Donald smiled.

"No, I'm not."

"Good." Donald got up to his balance and walked over to Stacie. "We can continue being fuck buddies, then."

Stacie raised a brow. "The last time we spoke, you were like… _Oh hi! I'm asking you on a date! Oh my love! My loving-,"_

"It was a stupid test." Donald interrupted.

The tall brunette tilted her head as she filled her head with bafflement. "A test? Are you fucking kidding me?" She wasn't angry.

Donald chuckled. "Yeah. The rose was a scam. I wanted to make sure you weren't the relationship type." He playfully winked at her.

"You idiot." Stacie grinned.

He laughed. "Yeah, I kinda get that a lot."

Stacie ran a hand through her hair. She heaved a sigh of relief as the details came clear to her.

"So," Donald began. "There's another party in the vicinity on Friday. See you 'til then?"

Stacie walked closer to him and held him close by his waist. "Why don't we begin tonight?" She whispered before closing the gap between their lips.

She kissed him hard, her feelings turned off. Unfortunately, Donald's heart was pumping really loud – swinging his floodgates of emotions wide open.

 _I'm doomed,_ he thought.

* * *

_[Meanwhile…]_

Beca was kneeling on the floor as she sorted out her CDs. For the past two hours, she had been working at a mix. This was the first time she removed her headphones from her head and took a break. A lot of things kept bugging her mind; she was simply trying to escape.

She heard the door open – signalling Chloe's entrance. Beca didn't turn around and instead, busied herself with the CDs on the floor. She felt her pulse starting to rush again. They had not talked yet since the redhead walked out of the room very angry last Saturday. When Beca had correctly piled up the CDs, she sighed and prepared herself for the bigger heartache of seeing Chloe's frown and meeting brows. She stood up and headed back to her desk. Just as she turned, she froze with what she saw. Her headphones were being worn but not by her.

Chloe hummed gently and bobbed her head enthusiastically as she took pleasure in listening to Beca's mix. She got lost in enjoying the brunette's work that she didn't notice Beca standing stiff from afar, with eyes widened out. When Beca's tiny frame entered the corner of her eye, Chloe immediately detached the headphones from her and stared apologetically at her roommate.

"You told me not to touch these. Sorry." Chloe's voice was subtle and calm, - like a naughty kid caught with her hand inside the cookie jar.

Beca gulped nervously as a pair of electric blue eyes stared at her. "It's… It's okay," she replied sheepishly. There was no frown, no meeting brows. There was nothing in the face that her fiery red locks fenced but a small smile.

They exchanged stares for a second. Chloe spoke up when she noticed a change in the brunette's expression. "Beca, are you okay? You look like you're going to cry." She chuckled softly.

"Y-you're not m-mad at me?" Beca's voice turned little.

"No, silly! Not anymore!" She walked over to her and got the pile of CDs from Beca's grip. "It's late, Becs. Your mix can wait 'til morning." Chloe neatly placed Beca's CDs into her drawers before gently leading the brunette to bed. "Come on, you're tired."

When they were both settled in their own sides of the bed, Chloe turned the TV on and switched the channel to one of Beca's favorite shows: _Asia's Next Top Model._ On several occasions, the redhead had seen her stay up so late just to catch the live airing of the show.

Beca couldn't concentrate on what they were both watching. She felt butterflies barging in at the lovely sound of Chloe's laugh. ANTM's guest judge was a comedian/designer; he filled the episode with endless punch lines.

Chloe broke the muteness between the two of them. "Why do you even watch this?"

"Something wrong with watching it?" Beca was finally easing out again - much to Chloe's delight.

Chloe laughed. "I didn't know you were into fashion, Becs."

"I'm not."

Chloe wrinkled the bridge of her nose as she began to wonder. "Then… Then why do you keep watching ANTM?"

"Asian models are gorgeous. I'm in love with them," replied Beca.

 _Ouch. What a punch,_ thought Chloe. She bit her bottom lip as jealousy silently took over her.

When the redhead didn't say anything in return, Beca grinned and playfully punched Chloe's arm. "I'm playing with you, Oh-Chlo! I love ANTM for featuring awesome Asian landmarks for their shoot."

Chloe realized her agenda and rolled her eyes. "Not funny, Beca."

 _Totally not funny,_ Chloe thought in her head. She crossed her arms and pouted. She continued on watching the show with Beca, this time carefully avoiding to open any conversation.

When deafening silence locked them up again, Beca looked to Chloe – her eyes changing and her lips frowning at the very sight of the redhead's posture and expression.

Chloe caught her staring with that weird look like Beca was again going to cry.

 _Those fucking blue puppy-dog eyes,_ spoke Chloe in her head as Beca's gaze penetrated through her very core.

Baffled, Chloe narrowed her eyes at the brunette.

"You're not mad again, are you?" Beca inquired shyly.

In a blink, Chloe felt her cheeks warming up and her lips crooking into an admiring smile. _Can you get any cuter, Beca?_

With Chloe's now light and carefree face, Beca's sincere and happy smile returned.

They both resumed watching the show while exchanging thoughts on each contestant and on the selected venues for the episode's shoot. A few minutes later, both were laughing at each other's silly comments. Beca and Chloe owned their world as they bonded.

"What was that gambling addiction thing that Aubrey was saying earlier?" Beca inquired out of nowhere.

"About Cynthia Rose?"

Beca nodded.

"Oh. That." Chloe shortly ran a hand through her hair. "It first started when she broke up with her girlfriend two years ago. The relationship ended badly; Rosie blamed herself for being the cause of its fall. She resorted to gambling since then, for escape."

"Was it really her?" Beca asked curiously. "Was Rosie really the cause?"

Chloe gently shook her head. "I don't think so.

"She told us how it happened and from my judgement, it wasn't her fault. It sounded like she was very loyal and loving to the girl. I'm supposing that their relationship hit the rocks because the girl was a bitch and Rosie was this little martyr to blame it all on herself."

When the hype resolved and they were both reduced to silently watching, Chloe stole glances on the brunette and noticed that her yawning were growing frequent.

"You know, there's a replay tomorrow in the afternoon. You're sleepy, Becs."

Beca had a big yawn before replying. "I'm not sleepy, Oh-Chlo," she lied.

Chloe giggled. "Come on, Becs. We both know how this episode is going to end, anyway. Ida will be the one kicked out."

Beca raised her voice a little. "No! It's Mei-Li. She'll get kicked out! Ida did a good shoot."

"Becs, Ida sat on the grass while she sported skinny jeans and brown wedges! She basically put her outfit into waste with her stupid pose. If I were this episode's guest judge, I'd stamp a big 'F' on her forehead!" Chloe explained.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Oh-Chlo. I know I'm right. Mei-Li will be saying her goodbyes."

Chloe chuckled. "Fine, you win." She was desperate to rest her head on Beca's shoulder, but the red line between them wouldn't let her.

Several minutes had passed and the host was about to announce who will be eliminated. Chloe smirked as she hoped that she wins the bet over Beca. It startled her when something smacked to her shoulder, - Beca's head glided sideways to her. The brunette had finally given up and fallen asleep.

 _I don't mind you trespassing, Beca. I really don't mind,_ thought Chloe as she rested her head gently against Beca's. A satisfied smile pulled out of the redhead's face as she held Beca's hand and linked their fingers together.

_Good night, Becs._

* * *

Chloe grunted in vexation when her alarm clock rang very early the next day. She slammed her fist to it to turn it off. When she glanced around, the room looked exactly the same as she left it the previous night: TV turned off, main lights off, lamp shades on, air conditioner at sixteen degrees, - all but one thing… No Beca Mitchell snoozing beside her.

The redhead wore her indoor slippers and journeyed the dark hallways of Casa Bella all the way to the dining area, where she found the brunette under a small light – enjoying a bowl of cornflakes. She walked over to Beca and sat across.

As she did, Beca stared at her with eyes wide open as if in surprise. Her cheeks were puffed with cornflakes and small drips of milk fell out of her tightly closed lips.

"Good morning," Chloe greeted.

Beca resumed chewing all that was in her mouth and wiped her face clean before greeting back. "Gmownin Oklo," she mumbled.

Chloe chuckled. "It's not good to speak words while your mouth is full, you know?"

Beca chewed a little more. "It wasn't full. It was half-empty. There's a difference."

Chloe watched her eat. She admired the way the brunette gormandized on her favorite cornflakes.

"Why are you up so early?" Beca inquired before putting in another spoonful of her cereals.

Chloe shrugged. "Nothing. I simply woke up. It's not like I did it on purpose," she lied.

"You were wrong, you know?" Chloe began. "Mei-Li didn't get sent home; Ida did."

Beca was too busy scooping milk and sipping it rapidly to respond in a jiffy. "My bets always lose. It sucks."

"Are you done cooking breakfast? I'm hungry." Chloe asked.

Beca shook her head. "I woke up later than usual. No time to cook. Don't worry Oh-Chlo, I already ordered _Sbarro._ Thank goodness for their 24-hr delivery service."

Chloe frowned. "Can't you just share me your cornflakes?"

Beca's brows met. She started speaking defensively. "Oh-Chlo, these are expensive cornflakes. My dad always scolds me for dropping boxes of this into the grocery cart… which is why I tend to conserve my supply."

 _Oh, you cute little bastard,_ thought Chloe.

"If you don't mind me asking," Chloe began. "I'd like to know – who was the first one who knew that you started drinking?"

Beca chewed and chewed and chewed. "My dad, of course."

Without warning, Chloe reached over and seized Beca's unfinished bowl away.

"Chloe, what the hell?!" Beca yelled.

"Relax, Becs. I'm going to give it back," replied Chloe.

"Chloe Bean, you slide it over to me right now!" Beca was already standing and was pointing a finger to Chloe.

"It's Beale, Becs. Beale. Chloe _Beale,"_ the redhead replied calmly.

"Give it back!" Beca yelled once more.

"Not until you answer me honestly first!" Chloe yelled back.

Beca narrowed her eyes at the redhead. "You got one question," she spoke low.

"Who was the first one who knew that you started drinking?"

Beca glared at her for a while, her fist clenching as it rested on top of the table. "Jesse."

Chloe smirked. _Holy fuck, it really works!_

"Okay, you're done, Oh-Chlo. Give my cornflakes back," said Beca – this time, calmer. When the redhead didn't even budge, Beca rapidly reached all the way across the table for her bowl but Chloe was quicker and had brought the bowl away from the table.

"Chloe! Give! That! Back!" Beca's voice was angry… and pleading at the same time.

Chloe walked over to a corner. She opened the lid of a trash bin and held the bowl over its opening.

Beca stood erect and extended her hands in front of her. "Chloe! No! Please, please don't put it in there. I beg you, please. I'll do anything you ask, just please don't-,"

"Anything?" Chloe interrupted.

Beca was starting to breathe hard. "A-anything."

"Fine," replied Chloe as she held her chin up proudly. "Go on a date with me."

Beca's eyes filled with confusion. "Chloe, what the fuck! No way! No fucking way!"

Chloe lowered Beca's bowl of cornflakes in a quick manner, causing the brunette to yell from her stance. "No! Chloe! Okay! Okay! I'll go on a date with you! Okay!"

Chloe recapped the trash bin and walked over to where the brunette stood frozen. Before she handed the bowl over, she inquired, "We good?"

"Good," replied Beca nervously.

Chloe gave her bowl back. "I'll meet you in our room at six tonight," she said before placing a light kiss on Beca's cheek.


	12. Chapter 2-1: Bex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) While I was working on this awesome chapter, I wrote my first one-shot. Yes, I'm sort of promoting it. The title is 'Perfect Days' and it's another BeChloe fic. It's a story where Beca switches bodies every day and when she meets Chloe Beale while she borrows Tom's body, she finds it hard not to get attached. If in case you had the extra time and had read it here, please do leave your honest reviews. They'll help me improve. Thank you!
> 
> I remember posting this chapter on FFdotNET for the first time, weeks after my dad's sudden death. It was a tough journey back to writing. I kept trying, and eventually I finished this story. It's been more than a year and a half since he was gone. This chapter, I still dedicate to him.

** With One Note: Part II **

**Chapter 2-1: Bex**

_CHLOE BEALE'S POV..._

The wall clock in this lecture hall ticked louder and louder in my head. Seventeen more minutes to go before this Biochemistry class ends. Seventeen minutes to go before I run to Casa Bella and meet Beca for our first date. I have been in this chair for more than three hours now. Honestly, I did not pick anything new from today's session; my notebook actually snoozed peacefully in my tote bag and never saw the sun rays that passed through the windows all afternoon. My elbows dug through the table as I rested my chin lazily on my left palm, while playfully clicking my pen with my other hand. I want this class to end right now. And sure as hell, when Chloe Beale wants something so bad, she gets it by hook or by crook.

I bent over to hide under the desk and puffed loose powder all over my face, neck and arms. I needed to look flushed - at least in Odom's geriatric eyes.

"Doctor Odom," I spoke out as I threw a hand up.

Odom pause and squinted her way to where I sat. "Yes, miss-,"

"Beale," I replied. My posture dropped back on my chair and the integral look in my eyes purposely turned weak.

"Beale. Miss Beale, what's the matter? You look - flushed."

I think she needs to see her ophthalmologist. Those big circular glasses seemed already useless to this old lady. "I have IDDM and the fruity smell in my breath reflects the acidotic condition of my blood due to the accumulating nitrates and ketones. My brain is becoming deprived of both oxygen and glucose."

Odom expressed deep motherly concern towards my fake hypoglycemic status. "Oh dear. Do you need time to take your shots?"

"Unfortunately, I ran out of my stock, Doctor Odom. Don't worry, though. My mother is already waiting in the parking lot with my subcutaneous shots of A-chain and B-chain dimers linked by disulfide bonds. May I be dismissed already?"

If you're asking what IDDM is, well, that's not important. It was a fake medical emergency and Doctor Odom's poor intuition paves way to my success.

"Certainly, dear!" Exclaimed Odom. I got this feeling that she wanted to sprint over to me and help me out of the building, but her degenerating joints held her to place at the platform. "Somebody please accompany Miss Beale to her mother," her thick Australian accent called out to the class.

"Oh, I'll be fine, Doctor Odom!" I yelled back with a weak smile as I hurriedly packed my things up. "Really. I can manage. Thank you."

And just like that, I was out of the lecture hall and on my way to our room, fifteen minutes before my call time with Beca.

I pulled out my phone to send Beca an SMS, asking her if she's already in Room 222. Five minutes passed and there wasn't a reply from her. I dialled her number to give her a call, but it was either the poor reception in our room or the fact that she didn't want to pick up that left my attempt in failure. _Where is she?_

The loud clicking of my heels against Casa Bella's marble floors picked on a fast rhythm as I excitingly made my way to our room. Here it goes! My hand twisted the doorknob and... _Wait._ Why is it locked?

"Beca?" I called out as I knock. "Beca? Open up!" But no answer came back. I ransacked my tote bag for the key and let myself in. Beca was not in here. All lights were shut off. I couldn't smell her perfume anywhere. Everything was neatly in place as I left it earlier before I went to school.

I didn't want to think of anything yet. My scumbag brain kept on making up possible alibi that Beca might hold for not being in here as we agreed. One last try - I dialled her digits again. It rang, and thankfully, something vibrated against the carpeted floor. A mischievous grin pulled out of my face as I headed towards the bed and knelt beside the frame. The vibration grew louder. I bent down to peer through the darkness under our bed. "Beca?"

She let out a short scream. "Chloe!"

I gently grabbed her arm and pulled her out. Her phone vibrated in her grip as my attempted call continued. "Why were you under the bed?!"

"I-, I uh-, nervous-,"

Beca wasn't not making any sense with her mutterings. The anxiety in her pale face and the restless moving of her sight told me it was about our date. "You don't have to go on a date with me, Beca. I don't want to do stuff with you that you're not comfortable in," I said with a melancholic tone.

"No, Oh-Chlo! I mean, it's fine! Really. The date will push on. It's just that, I've never-, I've never been on a real date before."

_Oh you cute little bastard._

I swiped off the stray strands of hair on her face as I let out a short giggle. "You'll be fine, Becs."

The next hour was all about getting her to wear a pastel-colored dress. Imagine the chaos we were under. Beca kept on insisting with the red flannel shirt and jeans. A lot of debates threw in between, but Beca and her cute sense of reasoning just didn't stand a chance against my coaxing. I could be pretty persuasive when I wanted to.

"Wear this dress or I'll kiss you!" I finally threatened her.

Beca knew very well that I would be a man of my word on that so she ceased with her tantrum-like behavior and started drilling holes in my head with her annoyed stare. She walked to me and grabbed the dress - the grump, adorably highlighting her face. A few minutes passed by and Beca barged back into my sight - the peach dress embracing her body contour perfectly. The thin black belt around her waist helped showcase her curves (that I've never noticed before, actually) and of course, her _well-formed_ bust.

_Don't tell her I said that._

"Perfect!" I complimented sincerely.

"Wait, that's what you're wearing?!" Beca snapped at me. "No. Choose a better one, Oh-Chlo."

I stared at the tangerine top and leggings that were in my grip. "I bought them this weekend, Beca, and I want to wear them tonight."

Without warning, Beca rushed to my wardrobe and skimmed through the hung dresses in it. "You can't wear that, Oh-Chlo."

"Becs-,"

She interrupted me as she pulled out a familiar outfit. "This one! Wear this one!" She held out the blue plaid dress I wore on the activities fair this year.

"I wore that a thousand times already! There's nothing special in it!" I argued.

Beca got the top and the leggings from my hands in exchange of the dress. "Blue highlights your hair AND your eyes. You should wear it."

"You don't know that," I replied. "I've worn this a lot before and no one has ever told me I looked good in it."

"That's because they're looking at the wrong things," said Beca. "Some people look at the dress and that's it. Others look at your hairdo and compliment it as is. And some people, they look at your makeup and when your eye shade befriends their sight, they tell you you look nice.

"They often forget that real beauty is judged by the overall look. It's the reason why _'shrimp guys'_ compensate by building up their muscle tone. They intend to fool."

A little lost in the tracks here, Becs... "Shrimp guys?"

"Yeah, shrimp guys," Beca beamed back. "When you see shrimp on your plate, you remove the head and eat the body. It's my euphemism for _Hey, hot guns and abs you got there, ugly duckling' kind of guys."_

I laughed hard.

"Fine, I'll wear it for you, Beca." I threw her a playful wink and she giggled.

The next argument between Beca and I surfaced as I drove to the restaurant. Beca kept inquiring about the food selections that the place offered. She was like this little vegetarian girl who kept count of every calorie that went in and out of her body. I've been noticing it for a while now. I mean, all her breakfast menus she prepared for the Bellas these past few weeks were all nutritious in every way - like one meal would already give you your fair share of all the required nutrients... macro or micro.

"The name, Oh-Chlo. Give me the name," Beca demanded as she tapped on her iPhone.

I rolled my eyes as I stepped harder on the gas. "I told you. They have salads and-,"

"The name!" Beca raised her voice.

I let out an exasperated sigh before answering, "Bolton Greens and Grill." From the corner of my eye, I could picture her _Googling_ the place from her phone. I shook my head. "You don't trust me."

"You don't trust me back," retorted Beca.

My grip on the steering wheel hardened. "You don't know that."

She let out a jeering chuckle. "You've busted a couple of my lies already. A sensible person wouldn't trust a certified liar."

"Ever heard of second chances?" My tone turned flat.

"Ever heard of wasted chances?" She scoffed. "A sensible person reaches a limit of giving second chances, you know?"

"And if one doesn't?"

"Then that's a different thing already," answered Beca. "It's love."

I think my heart literally just skipped a beat. She said the 'L' word. I was running out of things to say. The silence started to get a little awkward as I continued my drive. Suddenly, Beca decided to continue on the subject.

"Although, I would not have you hoping that such love exists." Beca stared far ahead on her window. "The idea of having someone who keeps returning to remind you who you really are despite you trying to push them out is just... unthinkable."

"Past experience?" I inquired.

She shook her head. "Science." Beca turned to my direction before saying, "You love Science, yeah?"

"How does Science relate to what you said?"

"Simple. You never see a north magnet attracting itself to another north magnet after one pushes the other." She smirked proudly at her own remark.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Becs... but the almighty magnet rule says that same poles repel each other." I swung my head sideways to have a quick glance of Beca in the passenger seat. Her confused look never failed to make me smile. "Both north magnets push the other - not just one."

Beca's voice returned to the usual apathetic tone. "I don't see why we should be discussing about magnets."

I laughed. "You started it!"

Her head rested comfortably against her window. "You were right though, Oh-Chlo. _Bolton Greens and Grill_ has its own nutritionists that may modify their dishes according to whichever diet a customer is in. At least that's what Google says."

"And your proud diet is?"

"A little favor to green leafy vegetables and organ meats!" Beca exclaimed like a kindergarten. _How adorable._

"Ahhhh!" She screamed all of a sudden. My senses heightened as Beca kept uttering worried statements. I tried my best stealing glances at her as I drive.

"What?! What is it, Beca?!" I panicked alongside her. "Are you hurt? What happened?" I watched her as she looked at her palm like her skin was literally turning black.

Beca panted. "I forgot my burrito on the fridge! Look!" She held her palm to my direction, and in my head I read _'Take your burrito to your date with O-Chlo,'_ which was in blue ink.

Before I could react, bright headlights burned my sight causing me to twist the steering wheel rudely to the left. The angry automobile horn at the intersection told me that I betrayed a red light. _Ooopps._

"God, you!" I yelled. "Beca, you almost got us into a horrible car accident!"

"What did I do?" Beca inquired - as if it was normal for passengers to scream suddenly inside the car.

I grunted in vexation. "You overreacted!"

"I didn't!" She said in her almighty defense. "I wrote this reminder on my hand so I won't forget, but I still did! It's depressing!" Before I could reason back, a wild siren was heard and flashing blue and red lights reflected through my rear-view mirror. _Uh-oh._

I pulled over and rolled my window down as a young-looking man in uniform approached. Beca released her seat belt and moved over to _me..._ I mean, to my window. "I'm sorry, officer. I was teaching my girlfriend how to drive," Beca told the man with a light grin.

 _My girlfriend?_ What a pretty title. I could feel my reddening cheeks liking it too.

He furrowed his brows in confusion and quickly inspected the interior of the car from his limited view. "Well, she's got a lot to learn."

"Yeah well, you know," Beca wrinkled her nose. "Older women."

 _OH NO, SHE DIDN'T._ I turned to her and gave her a _WTF_ look - which she ignored and continued scoffing with, "Thinking they're always right."

The officer smirked deviously at Beca and laughed mockingly. "Yes, they always do," he remarked as he shook his head. "I'll let it pass. Be more careful."

And just like that, he was out of our hair. "Not cool, Becs. Not cool," I said in low adjective.

Beca tried to rein her laughter that was giddy to jeer.

* * *

I can't tell you much about what happened next after that thing in my car, because I honestly didn't have a vivid memory of everything. The dinner was great; the whole experience was great. Beca, as fun as the kid she was, always made sure that I'm taken care of. When we arrived at _Bolton Greens and Grill,_ a tall guy in suburban fashion tried to squeeze his way into the slim walkway that Beca and I were passing through. Since I was the one going first, he bumped me, and I threw a little further that I got completely off my balance. Beca helped me to my feet and when the guy didn't even care to check on me, Beca yelled at him and forced him to apologize. _Beca, you cute little scene-maker._

Don't get me started on how she pulled my chair for me. Beca sure knew how to swoon a lady. Also, she was the one who made the food combinations for our dinner. I didn't know that eating healthy could be that delicious, honestly.

I was so grateful that I had made her lose the eyeliner for one night. I kept staring at her face the whole time she was telling jokes. The way her eyes squinted and her cheeks rose when she grinned melted me like butter on hotcakes. The world better die of envy, because I've witnessed Beca in her genuine chuckles and soft smiles. Unlike the rest of the people around her, I've come to know Beca's polite and caring side. Thank goodness, I took a chance to pursue her. This funny yet wise woman had me falling harder. _I've found myself a diamond from black dust._

I probably had a little too much of the wine at Bolton. My arm was around Beca's neck as we walked along the corridor to Room 222. She held me up as my heels occasionally tripped off. Luckily, I still had the energy to change into my night clothes by my own. And just like most nights, we were back to our usual setup - Beca in her own side of our bed, and I in mine. _One final trick up my sleeves, though..._

"Becs, do you know this little app called _Fingle?"_ I asked her as I pulled out my iPad Mini.

"Fingle?" She sat up and rested her back onto the headboard. "Is that a portmanteau for _Single Fingering?_ An official term has been established already on that. It's called masturbation."

I laughed hard. "No, it's a multi-player game." I laid the iPad down between us, proudly crossing the red ink that divided our bed. "Come on. It'll be fun. All you have to do is keep your fingertips on the squares as they move about on the screen."

"So, my fingertips just need to follow the moving boxes?" Beca confirmed. "Game on."

For the first round, my side required three fingers, and two in hers. Beca's boxes started to move toward the spaces between mine, so her fingers followed through. Her index and middle digits were intersected with mine. Her pale skin swiped against mine like friction never existed; the smooth touch caused the hairs on my body to stand. "Woah."

But that sound didn't come from my mouth. It was _Beca._

"What is it?" I asked softly.

"Nothing," she replied in a whisper.

The app's sound effects gave off our win for the first level and moved on to the next. Beca's expression began to worry me; I've never seen her dumbfounded on an innocent note. "We can just snooze off already if you don't feel like playing," I offered.

"Thanks."

I slid my gadget back into the drawer and positioned myself ready for sleep.

"Thank you, Chloe," Beca uttered suddenly, "for tonight."

I got back up and faced her. I was not actually expecting she'd say more. It was just that, for the first time, my name sounded invigorating in somebody else's voice. And without warning, Beca reached to me so that I was between her all-fours posture, and gently placed her lips to mine. It was a short kiss, but it was nice. She pulled off and kept her face close to mine. My heart raced and my brain temporary lost its grip - causing me to mutter, "You're trespassing."

_I didn't mean it!_

Beca took a quick glance at the way her hands and knees crossed the red line and chuckled softly. She closed the gap between our lips once more, and this time, I returned the kiss. Beca brough her hands to the back of my neck and gently pulled me to her side of the bed until she was flat on her back and I was above. She did so without interrupting the kiss. The kiss. I could feel her tongue tracing my lower lip invitingly as we kissed. It was crazy, because the only word I could think of was... _kiss._

"If Jesse spelled _'Becs'_ with multiple S's, I'd spell it with an X," I told her as I rested my head to her chest and let her cuddle me. "Because the X's in _'xoxo'_ represent the kisses."

"And I like kisses?"

"And you're a good _kisser."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. Hope you guys enjoy the second part as you did on the first! Leave reviews!


	13. Chapter 2-2: Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Thank you so much for all the reviews, guys! I love you all! Keep them coming. Tell me what you think. =)

**Chapter 2-2: Stay With Me**

_CHLOE BEALE'S POV..._

I wondered what Beca would say if she saw me with a large soda in one hand, and crisps in the other. _My Little Miss Veggie_ loathed fast food goodies. She always told me not to go _Hansel & Gretel_ over its juicy facade.

Like most afternoons, I enjoyed the eagerness of seeing Beca after a hard day's toil at school. _What she's wearing, how her hair's behaving, what seductive smirk she'll cast at the first sight of me..._ these were what spiced up the enthusiasm. These were the times when I wished I have a teleport machine so I could bypass the walking and see my girl pronto. And since innovation hasn't been very gracious to mankind, I had to go with this impatience.

Keep walking, Chloe. _Keep walking._

"Maybe this time, I'll lose my sanity," remarked Stacie as she dips her digits uninvited into my crisps and grabbed a handful. "Who knows what Beca has prepared for us tonight?!"

Aubrey paused on her pace and faced us. "That thing has a name?!" She scoffed. "Head Bitch is getting into my nerves. These heavy rehearsals will be the end of me!" She turned and continued to walk.

Stacie and I followed behind.

"Beca was born a bitch; therefore, she'll die a bitch. It's just what she is," Aubrey ranted. "That fucking midget starts to disgust me!"

"Hey, watch it!" I shouted to her impulsively - my tone threatening and proud, causing Aubrey to throw her famous dreadful glare at me.

"What did you say, Chloe?"

_Oh gosh. I didn't mean it to sound so angry._

After a deep breath, I cleared my throat gently. "Watch it," said my now calm, belittled voice. Aubrey held on to her glare. _Oh no._ "She isn't all that bad as you think. That's all," I uttered - my tone reflecting acceptance of defeat.

"Biased," intercepted Stacie.

"Yeah," Aubrey followed. "Chloe here has been this annoying since her date with Beca last week," she said with those lime green eyes still fixed and was firing straight at me.

_Where is this conversation going?!_

"You don't know her," I retorted - my voice re-gaining sense of power.

"And you do?" Aubrey scoffed.

Before I could defend my side, Stacie broke the escalating tension between this blondie and me. I was grateful for it. At least, I didn't already have to kick Aubrey's ass - literally.

We spent the rest of the journey to the dance studio in awkward muteness.

"Alright, idiots! Gather up!" Beca called out as she barged into... HOLD IT! _Woah._ Beca Mitchell in high ponytail, blood-red sports bra, and black running tights re-energized my spirit. She approached my stance and her pale hand reached for mine - squeezing it gently as she greeted me with her pleasing deep blue orbs and her notorious half-smirk.

 _Oh Becs..._ You had this damn effect on me; although, whether it was the hot outfit or the warm gaze was anybody's guess.

She proceeded towards the rest of the Bellas and formally started the rehearsal session. Beca scanned the faces before her and inquired about Cynthia Rose's whereabouts. Unfortunately, Aubrey opened her mouth too soon and made a deriding presumption that the missing freshman might be out gambling again with other delinquents. This pissed Beca off, causing her to order hard cardio for the night before leaving the studio.

It was not like her previous rehearsal walkouts. Something changed her mind - like she remembered having forgotten to pull out a tray of cupcakes from the oven. She was up to something, and even if I asked her directly about it, it was not like she was going to give me honest answers... so I fled the scene as well and followd Beca out of Casa Bella. For this time, I would break through her thick sense of secrecy using secrecy per se.

Proceeding with great caution so I wouldn't be seen, I made sure that Beca's gray wool sweater never left my spying sight. After ten minutes of passage through dark and slender streets, Beca paused at a dim lit alley. Faint echoes resounded through our perimeter causing Beca to rush off to an abandoned refrigerator at the side - hiding her whole petite frame into the dark. My spot here behind the oak, which stood about twenty feet away from Beca's position, provided enough coverage, so there was no need for me to even budge.

The voices seemed like arguing souls approaching from the other end of the short alley. They've been on this particular argument for some time already, I assumed; the atmosphere was already intense among their tones. Their sounds got louder as they walked towards our direction.

A few more steps and their faces would step clear into the light... _A few more steps and..._ WAIT.

Cynthia Rose?

It was her! Rosie's company consisted of another woman and two other men.

"I barely had a penny in my pockets all this week," said Cynthia Rose to the pissed off woman. "I told you. I'll pay when I get the chance. Right now, I got nothing."

"It's been weeks!" The other woman growled. "We need the money you owe us, now!"

Cynthia Rose grunted. "I don't have anything to give you yet!"

"That's bullshit!"

One of the two men advanced to Rosie and took the threatening to a whole new level. "Bitch, if you cannot give us our money, we'll kill you!" And without another word from anyone, he threw a large jab to Rosie's face - causing her to stumble backwards and hit the ugly rocks on the street.

_What the fuck is this?!_

"Hey!" Beca angrily yelled out as she came out of the shadows and faced the gang. "Didn't you hear the woman? She doesn't have cash right now. She'll pay you when _she... gets... the... chance,"_ she told them with great emphasis on the last words.

"And who's this little ass right here?" The buff man inspected Beca.

"It doesn't matter," Beca replied. "You are going to leave Cynthia Rose alone."

"Or what?" He challenged.

Beca clenched her fist in anger. "Or my little ass will beat the crap out of yours!"

He laughed, and then attempted to knock the woman with an uppercut. Beca managed to block his fist and immediately slammed a shoe to his nuts - bringing him down to his knees as he grunted in pain. She clutched his shirt to stabilize him and finished him off with a straight blow to the head.

This upset the other man so he made his way towards Beca.

Oh no, he's way bigger then the first one! Beca might get hurt!

_And I could not risk that._

I retrieved my _iPhone_ from my pocket and played a track on maximum volume, causing a sound of a nearby police siren to do its purpose: fool the gang and drive them away.

As they ran back off, Beca approached Cynthia Rose. I ended my cover and rushed onto them. Beca tried to figure out my involvement in all this while I focused myself on assessing head trauma, deep cuts, and breath sounds.

The three of us walked our way back to Casa Bella. As Cynthia Rose got comfortable at the conversation pit, I ran up and grabbed my first aid kit. The abrasions on her arms and the developing bruise on her cheek gave Rosie a considerable amount of pain so I offered her some Acetaminophen.

She'll be fine, though. Thank goodness for that.

At bedtime, I kept on asking Beca about how she knew where Cynthia Rose was going to be. She said she and the other freshman have been talking a lot as well, and that Rosie had mentioned it once about her gambling activities - and the people she owed money. Beca decided to go see Rosie earlier at the gambling site fearing that the people who were after her might force their way to the end of their bargain... _and they did._

* * *

_[The next morning...]_

"Oh-Chlo!"

Damn. Even in my dreams, everything was all - Beca.

"Oh-Chlo! Wake up!"

Wait, what?

"Come on! Oh-Chlo! Oh-Chlo!"

Oh, shit. This wasn't a dream. I could already feel Beca nudging me. I opened my eyes, turned to lie on my back and faced her. "I'm up, m'kay? What is it?"

As my newly woken up eyes cleared the blur in my vision, a bubbly and energetic Beca continued to grin at me. Her hair was in a messy bun and she was in her bathrobe. _Mmmm, kinky eih?_

Beca lied on her stomach and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Do you want to escape?" She asked with enthusiasm.

My brows furrowed in confusion. It was either she was high or... she was high. "What? Escape what?"

"Do you want to escape for the day? Go somewhere?"

"Beca, I have a class this morning."

"Yeah, which you just missed."

I got up and reached for my alarm clock... 7:30 AM. Research II started at seven during Thursdays. _Great._ My clock was set up to alarm at 5:30 every morning... except on weekends because I manually switch it off on Friday evenings. Yesterday was Wednesday and I didn't remember manipulating anything else in it after I ended the alarm tone. I seriously didn't know what went wrong.

_Unless..._

"Becaaaaa!" I growled as I stared at the alarm switch turned off.

"No need to yell, Oh-Chlo. I'm still right behind ya," she replied with a very annoying, happy-go-lucky tone.

I turned to face her. "You removed my alarm settings!"

"So?" She sat up. "I feel like we need to _escape_ today."

"Beca, you just ruined my perfect attendance record in that class!"

"I'm sure Higgins won't mind, so why should you?" And she smirked playfully like this was only a minor strike.

When I didn't utter a word back, Beca advanced to throw her arms around my shoulders and rest her head gently against mine. "Let's go somewhere else today, please."

She sure knew that I could never resist her touch. _Damn._

"Where do you want to go?"

* * *

"It's a little distant from the roads, but it's beautiful," Beca commented as we continued to walk in the woods.

I was parched. The last sip of water I had was back at Beca's home thirty minutes ago... and she said this 'place' we were walking to wasn't far away from where she lived. We've been walking for the past fifteen minutes. The sound of the forest twigs crunching under my steps began to annoy me. Beca's breathing was already a little rough. I knew she was not used to cardio stuff like long walks but this one, she endured.

"I used to go here as a kid," said Beca, "with my mom."

She never opened a topic mentioning her mom before. I made it a habit not to pass on any opportunity helping Beca elaborate about her life. "And you stopped going when she-,"

"No, I still go here, - just not as frequent as before."

"Now, you're getting me very intrigued, Becs. What is this place we're going to?"

Before she could answer, a two-storey house based on Greek architecture met our sight.

"Here," she said. Beca retrieved a key from her pocket and opened the main door (which was about fifteen feet in height).

The interior was filled with shelves and books - all which were dressed in dust and cobwebs. It was an abandoned library, a big one. A glorious chandelier hung at the center of it all. At the other end, stood glass walls welcoming sunlight into the library, therefore, requiring no more additional light to be turned on. It basically illuminated this place just right for daytime reading. The corners by which the glass walls forbade sun rays to touch carried the perfect shade that an old tree in the meadows brought at the highest height of the sun. Everything was so peaceful; this truly was, a perfect _'escape'_ place.

"My mom bought this thing from a war veteran's wife months before she died," said Beca. "She used to take me here every other day and we'd play. Sometimes we read together, but I think she grew tired of me inquiring about every single figure of speech on the text." She chuckled softly.

I took a slow wandering walk around as I admired the Doric and Corinthian pillars. It was a magic touch, actually. These pillars made it seem like nothing was going to burn this place into ashes, or like not even another Samson could smash the concrete to pieces. This place... it felt so - _safe._

"Your mom must be so lovely," I commented.

Beca withdrew the sheets - unraveling the marvelous conversation pit just under the chandelier. "She is. And she would've liked you so much if she were here today."

_Of course, I was blushing. You didn't need to ask._

"What happened to her?"

"She died," Beca blurted out.

I threw a _'I-know-that-part-already-come-on-give-me-something'_ look at her and she smirked deviously.

"Horrible car accident," was all she told me.

 _Progress._ This was good. She trusted me.

Beca settled into the couches and invited me over. She rested her head against my shoulder and linked her arm with mine - her soft digits securely intertwined with mine. I didn't know Beca could be so much clingy. I liked it.

"What happened to this place after your mom left?" I inquired.

"I became the only visitor," she told me. "My dad never touched this place again after the funeral. It was too painful for him back then... Well, it is still - painful, for him and for me."

"But you've managed to see this library after everything."

"Yeah."

Beca's thumb ran circles against my skin. This was the first time I encountered such gesture, and I tell you - it was very much soothing (especially if it came from someone you have deep affection for).

"Mom always told me that I'm stronger than I think," she continued. "Going back here after the trauma is my way of proving that to myself."

"What is it like for you? Going back here over and over?"

Beca chuckled a little too soon. "I'm not a mystery at all, Oh-Chlo." She pulled out of our cuddling and faced me. "There's nothing to uncover." And there went that stupid half-smile that just turned me on every single time.

 _Although..._ This time it didn't just turn me on. Her assurance gave these mini jitters about the parts of her that were out of the lamp and were hidden in the shadows a solid day-off. Who knows? This change might come out permanent.

This was one of those subtle moments when I just found myself already staring at Beca's thin lips, - craving for its feel against mine. She got the cue and took the effort to lean in and kiss me.

Beca prefered our kiss starting softly, gently, slowly. Thank god she did. It felt like time was never discovered and that the Earth took a pause from spinning. Everything stopped. Everything cancelled out of sense. Suddenly, the air around us seemed to shift on our own axis, on our own orbit. Our kisses were a series of euphoric turns - wherein I never cared if I tip off my balance or if I hit my head on something hard; the only thing that mattered in these turns was the way it replaced my definition of bliss.

She _is_ my bliss, and I hope I _am_ hers.

We ended up lying together in the couches - with Beca as the big spoon. She liked being the big spoon. Imagine a toddler hugging a teddy bear larger than her size. If this wasn't the cutest thing you've seen, you must be mad.

Her short arms tried its best to wrap around me and secure me, and her petite frame gave its all to provide me heat. The thing I loved the most was how her face was buried in my locks, and her little kisses at the back of my neck.

"I found your secret safe in our room, by the way," Beca said softly.

"What secret safe?"

"Your secret safe of paintings... the one you told me about when I borrowed your sketchpad?"

I turned to face her with curious eyes. "You s-saw them?" I stuttered slightly.

"Every single one of them," Beca said with that fucking smirk. "They're wonderful, Chloe. You're wonderful."

I sat up onto the couch. I couldn't believe she found them that easy! I was sure I had it perfectly hidden!

Beca placed her arms around my waist and mounted her chin on my shoulder.

"You didn't send them to Facebook, did you?" I joked. She giggled.

"No.

"I sent them to the Barden Institute of Arts for their biggest exhibit."

I laughed. "You're funny."

Suddenly, she withdrew her hands and chin. "I'm serious, Oh-Chlo. I really did."

I hated staring straight to her eyes because I knew that the deep blue color glinted gloriously when Beca was sincere with her words - like they did now. I didn't like the escalating anger inside me at this moment.

"Beca, what the _fuck?!"_ And like those times when I thought she was a hardcore bitch, I meant it. "They're not for anyone's eyes in the first place!"

The scared look in her face reflected her thought of not seeing my furrowed brows coming at all. She probably thought I'd be somehow happy with it.

"Relax, Oh-Chlo. I didn't do it to piss you off. They're really good. I just thought your natural talent could use some expos-,"

"I'm pissed off, okay?!" I interrupted. "Beca, those are personal things! Oh my god." I started pacing up and down the hall as everything started to dim in boiling frustration. It felt like I got a sex scandal out in the internet. Crazy analogy, I know, but it was true.

"Oh-Chlo, I'm sorry." She walked over to me to try calm me down but I roughly resisted any degree of her touch. "Don't be mad, Oh-Chlo, please." Her voice conveyed genuine apology but I couldn't accept it.

"What made you think you could do that, Beca?! You were so out of line!" I yelled hard at her.

Beca's voice belittled more and more. "Oh-Chlo-,"

"No! Don't call me that!" I grunted angrily before deciding to walk out of the library for some air. I found out - there wasn't enough 'air' for me, not when she was close. I started walking my path away from the library and out of the woods. Of course, here came Beca following me like crazy.

"Chloe, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to annoy you or anything."

"I hate you so much right now, Beca. You've no idea." I walked faster as she tried to catch up behind.

"Please, Chloe. Don't leave. Let's talk about this," she begged.

That was when I began to run.

"Chloe!" Beca yelled behind as she started sprinting too. "Chloe! Wait for me!"

But I kept my sight far and continued running...

"Come back, Chloe!" And like most cardio sessions, Beca's rough breathing started to get audible. "Chloe, wait!"

I just wanted to be out. I just wanted to be away from her for a little while. Couldn't she give me that?! It was enough that she took my paintings without my permission.

It took me a couple of sprinting steps before I noticed that the only sounds in the vicinity were the angry crunching of leaves as I ran... and my own breathing. I assumed Beca gave up on the chase. But then, her sudden absence was something I never favored. I realized that now. Behind me were simply trees that stood tall. Where is she?

"Beca?" I called out. No answer. She must've retreated back into the library. Running had always been too much for her. I started walking back. "Beca?" With every step, something started to ring in my ears... _Heavy breathing._ Oh no, Beca!

I ran. "Beca! Where are you?!"

At long last, my vision spotted her from afar - on the ground - breathing abnormally heavy. I ran to her as fast as I could.

"Beca, oh god. What's happening?" I led her up and cradled her, and what met my eyes scared the crap out of me.

"Beca, your lips. They're turning blue!" And not only that... She was paler than ever. Her nails were starting to get blue as well. She called out my name quickly in between heavy breaths.

This was not good... like _'needs-emergency-care'_ not good. We were in the middle of nowhere. And if I don't get her oxygen therapy in time, she'll die! My fight-and-flight system activated more physical strength as I carried Beca and ran out of the woods to get her to the nearest hospital.

"Stay with me, Becs." I told her as she clutched at my shirt gasping for air. "Don't leave me, please. Stay with me."


	14. Chapter 2-3: Concurring Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I do not own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect). I know, I know. I am a horrible human being for going on a hiatus like that, hahaha. I have an explanation, though. My laptop officially died on me three weeks ago and I had it repaired only yesterday. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it! Leave reviews please! They'll help me improve. Thank you!

**Chapter 2-3: Concurring Heart**

_CHLOE BEALE'S POV..._

Tiny drops of rain fell softly outside. My feet were glued as I stood stiff before the window pane, watching the cars proceed with caution along the wet road. _Melancholic,_ I know. This view was still preferable than the panorama inside, though.

"Go home, Chloe. Take a rest. I'll take care of things here," Mr. Mitchell said behind me. He wore a soft sympathetic smile and tired eyes.

I sat beside Beca's hospital bed. "It's okay. I'll stay until she wakes up."

"You've been here for at least four hours already. You need to take a break." Mr. Mitchell was very good at keeping a fatherly look on his face. A good rest was indeed, calling to me, but I couldn't leave Beca.

"Mr. Mitchell, the nurse came by minutes before you got in and told me to remind you about the papers for Beca's blood transfusion."

"Oh. Okay. I'll be right at it." He grabbed his coat and made his way to the door. "And Chloe," he continued as he pulled the door open. "Don't be too hard on yourself. It wasn't your fault." One quick fatherly smirk and he was out of the room.

 _Damn._ Charismatic smirking was a hereditary trait.

Once again, I was left in the room with only the cardiac monitor's steady beeping audible around. Beca had not returned to consciousness, and it bothered me. Honestly, I couldn't explain what exactly I was feeling, this entire time. There was fright, of course. I brought Beca in as she endured a horrible episode of pulmonary embolism. It was a life-threatening situation that Beca was lucky enough to escape from, because these episodes always required STAT medical interventions. There was a little of relief when her vitals went stable. That little positivity then got trumped by feelings of intense aftershocks. This whole thing was Beca's bombshell that exploded out of timing. What I learned from Mr. Mitchell gave me a new set of emotional waves. There was rage toward Beca (for the secrecy), and toward myself (for innocently causing this crisis). Eventually, helplessness kicked in; I was at lost with all these doors flooding open. And when you're helpless, you start longing for even a tiny sense of security; you want someone to tuck you in before you lose it. I needed Beca to tuck me in. I wanted her to softly run her digits along my locks while she traced caressing circles on my skin during her warm embrace. I wanted her body pressed to mine, and her thin lips to my forehead, as she occasionally whispered, "You're going to be okay."

Irony, wasn't it? I craved comfort from the very person who caused me the pain.

Another nurse visited and checked on Beca. She reported stable neurologic and other vital functions – much to my delight. She said Beca might wake up soon…

And after an hour, Beca did open her eyes.

"Sickle Cell Trait? Really, Beca?" I greeted in an annoyed tone, my arms coldly folded.

Beca adjusted the cannula that provided her oxygen through her nostrils. "Jesse told you?"

"Your father did." My brows furrowed in escalating anger.

"I'm sorry, Chloe."

"You better be."

"I was going to tell you wh-,"

"Oh I could see that you were," I interrupted, my tone unfriendly.

"Please, let me talk."

"What, so you can tell more lies? So you can again sugar-coat your mystery?" My voice shook. Beca looked down in defeat. "Nothing to uncover, huh?" I quoted her sarcastically.

She gently took my hand and pressed it lightly. My eyes met hers in a connection that I assumed was so rare with her. "Hi, my name is Beca Mitchell. I was diagnosed with Sickle Cell when I was twelve. My parents got their divorce finalized months before my mother died. I wanted to become an awesome DJ in LA, and I think bucket lists are fucking silly but I keep one, anyway." A small smile slowly broke out of her face, as her eyes asked for forgiveness.

The only logical thing to do was to give her a short, comforting kiss, so I did. But I was still mad.

I walked back to the window pane and stared into the heavy pouring of the rain. "I hate you so much right now, Beca. You have no idea."

Her voice belittled. "Funny. Those were the exact words you told me before I ran and passed out in the woods."

My brows met in bafflement. "You didn't hear me when I begged you to stay with me?"

"You said that?"

"So you didn't."

"Yeah, but even though I didn't, I tried to stay up – for you."

"You said it yourself – you passed out."

"I fought to breathe."

"No. The machines breathed for you."

"I wasn't going to let myself die, Chloe."

"But you ran after me despite knowing that it was dangerous for you."

There was a pause, but she replied with a cool tone. "Your girlfriend gets pissed off at you. Aren't you going to catch up and beg for her forgiveness?"

"Well, that wasn't cool – what you did."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I still think your works are exhibit-worthy but I'm sorry I did it behind your back."

I gave in to this crazy impulse to shift the conversation. "What is this, Beca?" I raised my voice before turning to face her. "Where is this going to? Is th-this some kind of-of, _oh-she-finds-love-but-she-turns-out-to-be-sick-and-cliché-love-literally-dies-at-the-end_ kind of story?"

"Calm down. I'm not dying. It's just Sickle Cell."

"Just Sickle Cell?" My eyes burned with anger. "Just Sickle Cell?! Your red blood cells are large-sized and are sickle-shaped and it's _just_ Sickle Cell?!"

"Chloe, it's not a degenerative disease. You know that. It's not like cancer that kills you slowly. Apparently, I was born with this gene. A few lifestyle modifications at hand and I will be fine."

"People with Sickle Cell have a shortened lifespan," I blurted out illogically.

"Yeah, but in my case, Doc Eaton vaguely predicted that serious organ dysfunctions might start off when I reach forty and that I _might_ not go beyond fifty. Last time I checked, I'm not even twenty-five yet." She tried ending my anxiety with a soft smile.

I kept up with my argument. "Hence, you are ill."

Beca rolled her eyes. Yes, she did – at this very situation. "When you see a person with Down's syndrome at a coffee shop, you don't wear a frown and remark _'Oh, she has an altered gene makeup. She is ill,'_ do you?"

And there was brief stillness. Beca was actually waiting for a response. "No," I replied in low adjective.

"It's basically the same with me. I have an altered gene makeup, that's all. Sickle Cell never meant to kill me," said Beca, ending with her famous half-smirk. "C'mere," she softly invited when she noticed the frown lingering on my face. I took down one side of her bed rails and sat beside her. As I folded myself into her, she wrapped her thin arms around me. Beca placed light kisses on my forehead before noting, "We'll be fine, Chloe."

"Don't you dare pull an _Augustus Waters_ on me, Beca." It was rhetoric, but she surprisingly dived into the same page.

"If you're referring to me lighting up like a Christmas tree and then not telling you soon enough, drop your worries. Sickle Cell is not tumor-based. I'm pretty sure you already know that." Beca chuckled.

"You're a Nerd Fighter?!"

"Not exactly, but I've read _The Fault in Our Stars._ It's my favorite book."

"Aren't you something?" I commented with a jeering grin – before steering back to serious talk. "And no. I meant, don't pull an _Augustus Waters_ on me by dying at some point of our book together."

She laughed. "You really can't be tamed unless you reach a million times implying that I'm near my death, huh? Okay, then I will not tire reaching a million myself reassuring you that I'll live long enough."

I tightened my embrace around her and she reciprocated by carelessly burying her fingers into the strands of my hair.

* * *

_AUBREY POSEN'S POV…_

"What's taking you so long?" I spoke.

There was loud clanking of what it seemed like CD cases before a Vader-like tone replied. "I was looking for my Sociology homewo-, oh, there it is!" Rykerr's giggling was as happy as a kindergarten.

"What's my voice like today, Darth Vader?"

"Female robot! I like it!" He exclaimed.

"So what's this homework that you need help doing?" I inquired.

Rustling sheets of paper resounded through my headphones. "Uh, I-uh, Doctor Phlipp wants a meta-analysis of certain studies on-,"

"Phlipp?" I interrupted. "Phlipp, as in… Mayora Phlipp? The so-called _Mistress of Sociology_ here in Barden?"

"Oh, you know her!"

"Took two of her Social Science courses last year… And yes, I also know about her annual Social Deviance Meta-analysis paper initiation rites for her freshmen classes." An excited smile pulled out of my face. "I have this list of online databases where you can access periodicals for free. I'll send it to you tonight."

"You're my angel. I owe you my life," he said with thick emotion – causing me to crack a short giggle. "So, what's up with you, Aub?"

"Chloe lashed below the belt yesterday on our way to rehearsal and yes, it was about Mitchell," I began. "We used to be super close best friends. We used to hang out all the time, you know? Like Basil Hallward and Dorian Gray."

"And Beca?"

"She's Lord Henry."

"You're mean." He chuckled.

"If only you could meet that brunette, Ryk!" I exclaimed. "She's turned Chloe's portrait into a picture of cruel lips and wrinkled eyes, just like Lord Henry did to Dorian's!"

"Okay, turn off the Literature mode," Rykerr joked but he bounced immediately back into the debate. "And Dorian did all of it to his own portrait, not Lord Henry. It would've happened eventually, even without Henry's influence. Dorian was wicked by nature and by blood."

I rolled my eyes. "Lord Henry corrupted him. He was the spark of Dorian's evil turnover." I realized, the core of our conversation shifted to discussing Oscar Wilde's sole novel.

"Be careful not to tip over the fine line between the words _'corrupted'_ and _'uncovered,'_ and between _'spark'_ and _'catalyst,'_ my dear." I could feel a light bragging smile breaking from his face.

"Point being?"

"There are moments wherein we think people around us have changed us, when really, they've just helped us recognize what's already in ourselves."

"Our truest nature…"

"Yes."

"Okay, Confucius. Enough of it." I jeered.

"Right. Other than your Chloe-Beca dilemma, what's up?"

The atmosphere inside my room suddenly snapped into gloomy dusk. "You know what's up."

"Don't take it hard, Aub. Your dad was probably just so stressed and ill when he said those words."

I replied no sound. The intonations of Father's mocking voice started echoing again.

"And don't you dare re-imagine that scene in your head again," Rykerr followed up.

My face broke into a tiny, soft smirk. "Yes, boss." For about two seconds, there was muteness between us. I didn't know what to say more. He too, probably.

Just when I was going to open my mouth and bid words of goodbye, Darth Vader spoke. "I'm not buying it, Aub. You're still thinking about it."

_True._

"How do you just… brush it off when it's all that you ever hear from basically everyone?" My eyes began to pool with tears. I clenched my jaw to keep a bead from leaving my orbs and running down my cheeks.

"You got to have a clear view of who you think you are, and who people think you are."

My voice broke. "But if what's they see from the outside, why can't it be true?"

"Aub, it's the-,"

I ended the chat. The screen of my laptop spelled _'Golden_Emeralds is now offline,'_ followed by that tab closing in reflex.

Rykerr Spence did nothing wrong. I was just growing tired of hearing his words of admiration and praise that were never in the mouth of anyone else – not since Mother died. The beads of salty tears escaped barbarically from their holding cells, and all hell broke loose. My head became a den of violent voices and disdainful glares.

I felt like needing to be tucked in, be consoled. Honestly, I didn't want anyone to be that consoler other than Rykerr, but I haven't met him in person. How was I even sure that Rykerr Spence was a male name? A female identity? A male persona? I have never seen a photo of him (or her), and yet he (or she) has looked right through my layers that I designed into a big labyrinth before my core.

Rykerr Spence, I've wanted it so hard to see you in my vision's reality, experience the scent of your favorite mint shampoo, hear the authentic sound of your voice – watch its wave frequencies collide with mine as we heat up in a light argument.

It was crazy enough to consider that I might actually have fallen for my idea of you. Damn right, I would go insane if I don't experience you for you, through other wonderful things that you might be.

I was crippled and you held me up – not letting go until I reach the other safe side of the road. _Thanks, Rykker._

* * *

_CHLOE BEALE'S POV…_

Beca got released from the hospital when the sun sank out of sight. Mr. Mitchell gave us a ride back to Casa Bella… well, us and boxes of pizza for the rest of the girls. _Thanks, Beca's awesome dad._

Beca snoozed peacefully beside me, her oxygen source still inserted into her nostrils. I watched her as she slept, as her chest rose and fell with each deep breath, as her chestnut hair bordered the serenity that was her face. She shifted in position, searching for my arm through her half-asleep state and when her hands found it, she pulled it to her and held it against her torso – wrapping her limbs around my arm like vines around a pole.

I viewed this scenario thinking if Beca could feel my prying eyes all over her figure, because I could totally feel hers when she watched me sleeping. Even before we dated, she grew this curious habit of looking at me in my slumber. It must be interesting to know what went on in her mind every time she did. Beca might've thought of me getting absorbed in a peaceful dream while I thought back of her deep blue eyes getting absorbed in her reality.

"Chloe?" She mumbled in an almost whisper.

"How did you know I was up?"

"Your thumb couldn't be tamed."

I glanced at the way my digits enjoyed the feel of Beca's hand. _Right._

"What is it, Becs?"

"I know you still have a lot of questions. We can talk about them, if you want." She looked up to meet my gaze.

"Get some rest first. You need it."

Beca sat up against the headboard. "You can't get enough rest because those questions are bothering you big time. And I cannot sleep myself knowing that I'm the cause of it."

I just looked straight into her wonderful irises. They were tired, but still wonderful.

"Chloe, please."

I sighed. "First off… If you're not dying, why do you keep a bucket-list? Bucket-lists are for the dying."

My girlfriend rolled her eyes on me once more.

"I haven't reached a million yet, Becs," I cracked, and she giggled.

"Bucket-lists are not only for the dying," Beca argued. "Jesse pushed me into it. There was a time wherein I went so reckless with my life, and smartass-Jesse, instead of lecturing me like a pastor, encouraged me to 'keep doing what I want' and eventually suggested that I make a comprehensive list of all the things I plan to do with my life – positive or negative. At first, I didn't want to call it a 'bucket-list.' I tried crafting alternative names for that little notebook of mine, but 'bucket-list' was the shortest one to pronounce… so I stuck with it."

"Okay, give me one item that you already crossed out from that list."

"Weeks ago, I pretended to be a paranoid schizophrenic and panicked in public because of the suspicion that MTV's _Give It a Spin_ was spying on me."

I chuckled. "And the unlucky recipient of the prank?"

"Jesse."

I broke into loud laughter.

"Chloe. Next question, please."

I took a deep breath as I resolved the humor. "What's with the mask?"

"What mask?"

"You show everyone this tough figure, this heartless image, yet we both know that's not what you are."

"Ah," she looked down, watching her fingers stroked each other. "I can't help it. I feel like I should let them know I can have a sense of authority even though I'm just a pale, little kid. Sometimes I think, if I don't have the chip on my shoulder, I have nothing at all."

"Well, you are not your anger."

"I know that, but oftentimes, I tend to forget."

"What if I'm here to remind you so?"

Beca shook her head lightly. "I hold practically everyone at arm's length, Chloe. It's easier that way."

"It's also very lonely, don't you think?"

"But I have you inside." She glanced sideways at me. "Right?"

As if in reflex, I placed my lips unto hers and we began another set of _euphoric turns._ It wasn't until it grew harsher and she pulled out panting hard, that I realized how Beca forgot to breathe in the duration of the kiss. I ended up teasing her for it.

"I'm not sure if you know, Becs, but you may breathe during a kiss." I was laughing so hard.

"What can I do?! You have this effect on me, damn it!"

"Awww," I added in mockery. "Cheesy Beca Mitchell. I love your softness."

"Softness?" She questioned with dare, her eyebrows rising arrogantly. "You want to see _softness?_ "

Baffled, I sat up slowly to the headboard, my eyes reflecting dullness in my head. Beca shifted to me and sat on my lap, her ocean-blue orbs looking right me with a mischievous intention. And then, there was that notorious smirk that just tickled my core so hard. Beca crashed her lips to mine in a split of a second before bringing a hand at the back of my neck – pulling me closer. I felt her tongue trace my lower lip, so I let her in.

"Breathe, Beca. Breathe," I jeered in between rigorous kisses.

"Shut up. I'm kissing you," she mumbled before placing a trail of light pecks along my neck. At the end of the line, she faced me straight – our sight locked in a connection. I wasn't sure if anyone was to say something, but I told her I love her, anyway. And the sweet smile that replied was the most precious thing I've seen in my entire life.,hr>  
[The next morning…]

As the rays of the morning sun warmed my face, I woke up with the memory of last night's passion. Beca, in an oversized Barden shirt and black underwear, was at her desk scribbling busily. I wrapped the blanket around my naked form and walked to her, landing on her lap the way she did on mine last night.

"Is this your bucket-list?" I inquired upon eyeing the notebook she was writing in.

"Yes."

I skimmed through the entries and beamed at the beautiful little things of life that were listed. Grabbing her pen at the side, I crossed out the last item on the page which read _'Have sex.'_ Beca gives off a short chuckle before flipping through some pages of her notebook. She retrieved the pen from my grip and crossed out _'Make love.'_

I turned to Beca and her eyes immediately met mine. It was just like the rest of our moments of sacred stillness, but it was still lovely to sustain.

"We good?" Beca spoke in soft tones.

I gave a nod that was the sum of my concurring heart, and the wholeness of my bliss.


	15. Chapter 2-4: Unexpected Cyclone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Thank you for sticking with this story. Leave reviews!

**Chapter 2-4: Unexpected Cyclone**

_STACIE CONRAD'S POV..._

I never knew that I could feel so overjoyed over a group success. Beca Mitchell did an awesome mix; her very work would've blown the Trebles out even without the Bellas doing it right.  _But I still fucking hate her._ It was one of those times wherein there existed those great artists but you didn't completely adore them because they were assholes by attitude – professionally or personally.

I was just trying to bear my triumphant mood, but my head could not shove off its desire to celebrate over the fact that all those weeks of hard cardio and intense vocal training under Beca, paid off.

And by ' _celebrate,_ ' I meant  _alcohol_.

Of course, I rooted this party so we could celebrate. Theta Pi was too kind to let us have this victory party with the whole frat house. Beca Mitchell wouldn't let the red cups and the loud music touch Casa Bella.  _What a bitch._

It was a quarter past midnight but the party was just starting to heat up. A lot of these people were already compromised by intoxication, but the fun continued just as eager as it was three hours ago. I myself, felt like spinning already. I could still walk straight ahead, but something was already pulling wires in my head.

"Hey, sexy," whispered this tall, buff guy as I stood by the pool area – silently gazing over the busy scene.

Before I could even react, his hands hovered around my waist from behind, and his body was glued to my back. I quaffed on my drink as I ignored his advances.

"I think you look so fucking hot in those clothes," he murmured with an ulterior motive. His face was buried in my locks – placing a trail of light pecks along my neck. "But I think you look hotter without it," he whispered right into my ear.

_Sorry dude, I'm not in the mood for sex._

I got off his lustful touches. "Go fuck yourself big boy," I derided before walking away. He was too fast to have my wrist in his tight grip – my body pulled to him. "How about you fuck me?" His tone reflected his annoyance. I could feel the bridled infuriation through the words that escaped his gritted teeth.

I would really give this a go if it weren't for the hazy visions that I was having. And like I told everyone, I'd always give sex a go but not when alcohol's taken over my judgement, not when it's made me stand on the verge of just passing out. I never liked the idea of pills, and dogs like him resented condoms. Imagine the stakes that conception will happen inside me.  _Yikes_.

I didn't want to cause too much of a scene from this, but it looked like he was giving me no choice. "Let go of me, or I will-,"

"What?" His eyes shot fiery gazes to mine – like that look you get when a spider in your room won't die at the first hit. "You'll punch me? Kick me in the nuts?"

"I'll scream." Kudos to my effort to sound brave despite my pulse starting to rush. "Let go of me!" I finally yelled – which, you know, was just useless, because his fingertips only dug deeper into my skin.

"I believe, the lady said ' _let go_ ,' Eldon." A third voice spoke up. Upon hearing this bastard's name, I recalled him being one of the Treblemakers.

"Donald! Hey, buddy!" Eldon greeted cheerfully – thinking that Donald sarcastically hopped into the act. His hand was still locked around my wrist. "I got a dime here, wanna have a threes-," A solid jab landed on his face, throwing him to roll against the cold tarmac. The music drowned the tension, but it didn't stop people from noticing.

Donald held my arm and inspected my reddened wrist. "Are you okay, Stace?" Behind his shoulder rose a flushed Eldon, approaching with clenched fists.

"Donald, look out!"

That was a smooth get-back blow to Donald's face. That was also, the cue for a heightened brawl between the boys. The music stopped and everyone pooled the scene. Jesse and Bumper charged in to stop the fight.

"You touch her again, and I'm going rip your head off!" Donald swore to Eldon's bruising face before fleeing the pool area. I followed him to the porch.

"What the hell was that, Donald?" I ranted.

"I just had my ass kicked for you. A simple ' _thank you_ ' would suffice." He wiped the blood that dripped out of his nose and tried to manually re-align his cracked eyeglasses.

"Well, I did not ask you to. And in case you're forgetting, you're not my boyfriend. We're not together. Next time you want to humiliate me like that-,"

"Yeah next time I'd probably just let your name fall on Barden's long list of rape victims," he retorted. One disappointed head shake and he was gone.

I headed back to where the drinks were and sank my head into the ignorance and apathy that alcohol brings. I walked to the Theta Pi garden just a few distance from the mansion. My head throbbed and my eyelids longed to give up. Every clank sounded like a nearby gunshot to my ears; I needed to get away from the party's noise.

The lamp post gave just the proper lighting for my eyes. I paused as I took a curious step on the Bermuda, feeling a downward slope beginning at the tip of my shoe. I sat, liking the feel of the grass against my legs. Looking at nothingness ahead, I took a deep breath, and wondered where-,

"Stacie?"

"Beca!" I greeted in surprise as I turned and saw the petite girl with her hair in a messy bun standing behind.

"What are you doing here?" She inquired, with none other than a hint of curiosity and concern in her voice.

I furrowed my brows to my own thoughts.  _Why was she even talking to me?_

"Getting some fresh air, I guess." I returned to my lax position – giving zero shit to her. Showcasing a disinterest might brush her off my hair for good.

To my disbelief, she sat beside me by the slope. "Yeah, me too. I need a break. The party's starting to get messy."

"Parties are supposed to be messy, Beca." I rolled my eyes. "And I thought you're this  _hardcore-club-gal_  that everyone says," I retorted.

Beca gave a short and soft chuckle.  _Just that chuckle_. "What does that mean?" I asked – slightly annoyed.

"What?"

"You gave that little-," Beca had this confused look on her blue eyes. "Never mind."

"I heard about what happened at the pool area," said Beca.

"So?" I sarcastically dismissed.

"So, I want to see how you're doing after that."

I simply arched a brow.

"What is it with you and frat boys?" Beca questioned.

"What kind of question is that?"

"I-, I was just-,"

"Yeah," I cut her off. "I know. I'm the Bella slut who sleeps with men for a living."

"You're not a slut, Stacie," she responded. "And those dickheads you slept with? They're nothing like men. They're boys – little scumbag boys whose IQ's infinitely lower than yours. If they were men, they would've treated you like a lady… probably give you a flower at a random day or be your cliché knight in shining armour or something."

I stared at her in complete bafflement. "Who are you and what have you done to Beca Mitchell?" I joked.

And there went that short soft chuckle again. "Cheers to stereotypes."

"Cheers to breaking stereotypes."

"Yeah."

"God, it feels like a ton of bricks on my head."

"How much drink did you have?" Beca inquired. It was different – her asking about me, but my head's in jumble and I couldn't care much about this stuff.

"Whydun chaget back there?"  _Yup, I am already drunk._

Beca laughed at the way the words escaped me. "I can't. The party's too messy."

"Parties are messy!" I emphasized to her face. "A party is always messy, Beca. That's why people enjoy it. Everyone there knows how messy it already is and how much more it can get. You wouldn't be complaining about its untidy aura unless you're-,"

Beca looked at me as I halted.

"You haven't had anything!" I yelled at her – grinning at my own  _Sherlock Holmes_  moment. "That's why you're not enjoying it! You're not drunk! What kind of ass stays at a party and drinks nothing?" I jeered.

"The kind that has to make sure that I still have nine girls going back with me to Casa Bella."

"Head Bitch duty."

"Yeah."

I began singing whatever lyric popped into my head. My slurring speech and my apathy did not stop me from having a good time just saying what I felt like saying. Beca was this little martyr to entertain any topic of my choice. Seriously, who keeps up with a drunk girl who talks absolutely no sense?  _Beca Mitchell._

"You dun havta keep doin that. Go back to n'party, Beca."

"Okay, that's it." She stood and helped me up. "I'm taking you home."

"We're gunn-walk home?" I chuckled.

"Of course, not. Chloe will give us a ride."

Beca grabbed my arm and hung it over her nape to help me walk through the garden. "I likeya be'er whenyer nice," I muttered playfully. Beca replied with a simple smirk.

We sat at a bench near the mansion as we waited for Chloe. My head really went heavy so I anchored it on Beca's shoulder. Not even the throb in my brain felt real; I seemed out of the dimension. I needed for something to be real at this moment… something,  _anything_. Illogically, I sat up, held Beca's face and kissed her. Kisses are nice; they always feel real to me. She pulled out and looked at me with shock.

"Oh, I get it! Yeah, thanks for the message, Beca!" Chloe yelled. I didn't realize she was already there.

The next thing I heard was Beca defending and explaining. Her words weren't that comprehensible to me anymore. That was when I succumbed to sleep.

When I opened my eyes, I was still at the party, sitting on the same bench, with my head rested on Beca's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I asked Beca with my remaining strength.

"I'm texting Jesse. Thanks to your little show a while ago, Chloe got mad and went home by herself." I could hear the annoyance in her tone.

"M'sorry," I muttered, closing my eyes.

"It's fine, really. You're drunk."

"But I shouldn't be kissing unavailable people."

Beca chuckled sweetly. "Yeah."

* * *

_CHLOE BEALE'S POV…_

It was kind of lonely, being the only soul in Casa Bella. Well, I needed to get out of the party. You just saw your girlfriend's lips on somebody else's – of course, you'd walk out. I sat at the conversation pit waiting for anyone to return.

A few minutes later, I heard a car pull over and park. The main door squeaked open. Jesse was carrying passed-out-Stacie to her room. Beca was following behind – throwing a  _hear-me-out-please_ expression at me before ascending the stairs as well. It didn't take long before she and Jesse went back down.

"How's Stacie?"

"Peacefully asleep," Beca said shortly. "Finally."

She was about to follow Jesse out when I called her name.

"Yeap?"

"Can we talk?"

She sighed. "We will talk, just not tonight, Chloe. I have to look after seven other girls at the party." She smirked and disappeared out of my sight.

"Beca?" I called out at the last millisecond.

"Yeap?" She greeted back with bright eyes.

"I'm not okay," I muttered.

Beca walked over and sat beside me. "I'd kiss you right now, but you wouldn't like the taste of Stacie's lips."

I laughed hard.

"I'm sorry it happened."

"You don't have to apologize," I said in an almost whisper. "She's like that when she's super drunk."

"That kiss though," Beca commented with that damn jeering smirk. I matched her sight with complete disbelief. "Her lips were like-,"

I stopped her with a kiss that was so eager and so unforgiving. "You were saying?"

"I-, I was s-saying that no one kisses me b-better than you do," she uttered as I trailed on her neck.

"I love you," I said, looking straight into her deep blue eyes. She grinned and kissed me again. We were about to start another set of  _euphoric turns_  but Jesse honked twice.

"I better go." Beca stood.

"I'll go with you, Becs."

She was always this sweet. I didn't realize how much I needed her comforting presence and therapeutic silence until now. Beca wasn't always good with words (at least not to me). There was this time last week when I went to her home. Mr. Mitchell welcomed me in and told me that she was in her room. As I approached, I saw the door agape, and I could hear rustling of paper before Beca screamed and something flew out. There she was on her bedroom floor, her hands covering her head down; she was frustrated. I picked up that thing that she threw, and a white shirt with vinyl print that says ' _B+C_ ' right at the center met my sight. She froze right there at her floor, saying nothing but a weak "I can't wrap it nicely for you," so I told her we would wrap it together so she could give it to me on Christmas day (which will be next week).

_That cute little bastard._

* * *

_[The next day…]_

"Chloe, hurry up!" Aubrey yelled from the other side of my door. I grabbed my purse and hurried out.

"What's the rush?" I greeted rhetorically.

"What's the rush?" said Aubrey, her voice a little higher. "What's the rush? Declan's already waiting for me at the mall, alone… in that public place, I might add!"

"When is your father granting you a car of your own, Bree?" I started the engine.

"When I get my law degree," she replied, "which is totally unfair, by the way. Regine got her first Porsche at the age of nineteen, and she was failing Dr. Bruce's class back then. Psychology was never one of her strongest points." That was the whole reason that I am in this shopping spree with Aubrey: she needed a ride.

"Chloe, you exited the main road two blocks too early," Aubrey informed as I drive.

"I know."

I slowed down to a complete stop when a dashing Beca Mitchell at the sidewalk met my sight.

"What are you doing? Why is she getting in the car with us, Chlo?"

"Because," Beca bumped in as she settled comfortably at the back. "I'll be shopping with you guys." From the mirror, I could make out a wry smile breaking out of her lips. "Trust me, Posen. I wouldn't be here if Chloe didn't ask me to."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Chloe, is this some sweet payback for all the  _Sour Patch Kids_  I hijacked from your purse back in freshman year? I get it, you're still angry about it, but you don't need to punish me like this. At least tell me that she'll be staying at the parking lot for the entirety of our afternoon."

I just laughed.

Our whole trip basically revolved on Aubrey and Beca shooting fireballs at each other. I'm getting used to it, to be honest. I always thought our relationship might somehow ease up Beca's harshness on the rest of the girls, but it wasn't just the case. After that crazy thing she did for Stacie last night, I was led to believe that it was a new leaf turning fully, but it seemed that her crazy mask never left her.

I found it touching that she agreed to go with Aubrey and I today (considering the fact that she hated her with all her might). She was up all night, for the ANTM marathon on cable. I gave up after the third episode. We talked about a lot of things too, mostly about music, but it was nice. Her Sickle Cell turned out to be the big 'mystery' that I was trying to decipher since day one. It all made sense now: her alcohol restraints, the queer pallor of her skin and lips, her resentment of my paint cans and my strong perfume, the shallowness that her breath became during slight exertions, the anxiety about eating out and about keeping it around veggies... it all made me understand her more. I got to say, I was a bit disappointed that it all ended with a medical condition. I've always thought that her deal would be something like, unresolved conflicts during childhood or whatever. Looking back at my curiosity back then, I could only laugh. Beca was probably right when she said that she wasn't a mystery at all.

_Fuck life and its crazy surprises._

We found Declan at Starbucks. As usual, that little Posen wore his biggest grin upon seeing Aubrey. Her thesis defence is next week and here she is, making time to help her little brother buy a suit for his school dance tonight. Regine, on the other hand, was probably busy counting sheep at her office that she couldn't spare at least an hour to cater to Declan.  _What an ass._

Aubrey, with all her OCD-ness, took her about two hours deliberating on which suit would be best for her brother. When it was paying time, her card would not register properly and she and I had to proceed to the bank's nearest branch to clear everything up. She had no choice but to leave Declan with Beca at the mall.

We got back to them after about thirty minutes. After a short snack at a café, Aubrey recommended that I drive Declan back to the Posen mansion first.

"What are you listening to?" I inquired as I drove and Declan sat busily in the passenger's seat, indulging himself in what it seemed to be wonderful music.

"It's an awesome indie mix," he said sheepishly. "Beca gave me this CD a while ago along with a copy of First Date."

"First Date?"

"It's a Broadway musical, according to her."

"I didn't know Beca kept copies of cast recordings," I remarked in amusement.

"She didn't," Declan replied. "She said she's not a big fan of  _showtunes_. She bought this for me this afternoon while you were gone."

"I gotta warn you, Dec. That recording has some-,"

"Profanity, I know." He chuckled. "It's okay, really. The art matters more, I guess."

It made me smile. "Yes, it does."

"You're so lucky to have Beca as your girlfriend," Declan said - out of the blue. "She's cool."

"Yeah."

The next words that escaped his young mouth was the most interesting matter during this drive. "If you ever let her go, I'm going to hook her up with Aubrey," Declan added.

"You're not serious, are you?" I rhetorically said. "They're basically enemies, Dec! They annoy each other every single time."

Declan threw this little smirk. "Don't you get it, Chloe? That's what Aubrey needs: someone to argue with." He laughed.

"I don't get you, sometimes." I shook my head playfully.

"Seriously, though. She cannot fill her ego without annoying someone. She basically cannot be Aubrey without Aubrey-nagging someone. Beca will be the yin to her yang and I think that's nice. Beca might just be perfect for her."

"Careful, now. I'm right here… on the wheel, I might add," I scoffed.

"Harmless imagination, that is. There's absolutely no need to be threatened. I gather that Beca loves you so much."

"And this is all coming from a Posen, huh?" I jeered.

"Common misconception!" He laughed. "We, Posen's, just seem like we're not capable of falling in love, but we are… even Aubrey."

My curiosity chewed on me. "Yeah, what's going on with her and this freak she met online?"

"Rykerr is Aubrey's main confidant nowadays. She might even be in love with that guy already."

"But she hasn't met him yet in person."

"I know, and I think it is what makes Rykerr so special. Aubrey's never better before he came along. He's all she talks about over the phone when we talk," said Declan.

The rest of our minutes together ran out in making fun of Aubrey and her obsession with Rykerr. I dropped him off at their house and went back to the mall to bring the blonde and the brunette back to Casa Bella.

When we got back, something horrible came up. Beca had an unexpected visitor, an unexpected cyclone.

"I had the girls here perform what you plan to do on the Regionals," Regine said in low adjective. "And I don't like it."

"That's because the three of us weren't in that impromptu preview you had," replied Beca. "I made sure that the routine would be a group effort."

"Like the three of you would've made any difference," the tall blonde scoffed.

"It would've. Our tracks spice up certain parts of the mix."

Regine grabbed her bag. "I'm telling you, Mitchell. I don't accept failures… or runner-ups." Her green irises threw a threatening glare on Beca. "You got one chance. Mess this one shot up and I will terminate your membership in this group."

"You can't do that," I said instinctively. Regine simply smirked back – the kind of smirk that evil bitches do in movies. That despicable blonde left Casa Bella in an unusual aura of tension, with Beca the most stunned one in the area. I approached her frozen figure.

"Scrap out everything. I'm going to revise the whole mix," she told me, her tone defeated. I never heard her like this. Regine really got to her this time. Months ago, she would've just brushed off Regine's visit.

"We can do this. You can do this," I whispered to her as I led her to our bedroom for her to vent out some pressure.

"If we don't place first next month at the competition, she'll kick me out," her apprehensive voice spoke out.

I held her hand. "Well, I'm not going to let her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. Things are starting to heat up in Casa Bella! A few more chapters and we're off to see Part III. Stay tuned. *ehem* Reviews please. =D


	16. Chapter 2-5: Fingers Crossed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind the film Pitch Perfect.) Leave reveiws, please! Thanks a lot!

**Chapter 2-5: Fingers Crossed**

 

The night wind brushed harshly against my cheeks as I ran through the woods. My coat wasn't doing very well in keeping me from shivering. I used my phone to provide me with some light.

"Beca!" I yelled to the endless darkness ahead as I continued to sprint. "Beca, where are you?!" I paused as I tried to catch my breath. I need to find her. In times like this, her mother's library would be her only place of refuge.

I reached the library after a few minutes. The main door was ajar; Beca must be inside. True enough, I found her in her sitting on the floor by the tall windows, her back against a dusty wall, her costume from tonight's competition failing to keep her warm, and her breathing growing uneasy. I ran to her and put my coat around her.

"We lost." Her voice broke.

"We didn't," I comforted. "We placed next to the Trebles, but we're still in for Nationals. Technically, we didn't lose."

"I hate myself!" Beca started banging her clenched fists to her forehead. I struggled to calm her down.

"Beca, it wasn't your fault. Your new mix was amazing and-,"

"It wasn't amazing enough!"

"Oh, Beca." She finally sobbed. Tears pooled in her bloodshot eyes. I pulled her into a reassuring embrace, rubbing a hand on her back to calm her. "If you're worried about Regine, I told you, I'm not going to let her touch you. I'll talk to Aubrey. She'll-,"

Beca pulled out of the hug. "Did you see his face earlier?! It was mocking me. It's happening all over again! That little shit just won't stop!"

I stood and paced up and down in complete disbelief. "Is that what this is about? Gregory Haull? You're unbelievable!"

"You don't understand."

"Then tell me! Maybe if you talk about it more, I'll understand!" My tone sounded so challenging as it mirrored my escalating annoyance. Beca just sat there, sniffing.

"After all this time, you were just about kicking Haull's ass. That's so fucking immature, Beca! Stop making this all about some high school rivalry! You're not in high school anymore!"

Beca kicked the nearest vase out of impulse and buried her face into her hands as she continued to cry. "He'll pay," she murmured through gritted teeth, "for everything."

"Beca-,"

"He'll pay! I'm going to fuck him over! He'll pay!"

I couldn't take more of this. So she grew a chip on her shoulder because of Haull… how disappointing. Some parts of me wanted to believe she had grown to like the rest of the girls, and that the stricter training was intended for the overall success of the Bellas. "Beca, stop!" I yelled, and her tired eyes met mine. "I am done with this, do you hear?! So done!" Just like that, I was off walking to the exit. "Come back to me when you're less insane!"

The Bellas were silenced in their rooms by tonight's competition. I guess everyone expected we'd place first. Beca's mix was one hell of a masterpiece; no one knew what had went wrong. On the bright side, our game had not ended yet. We got one more chance to reclaim the throne, although I'm deeply worried about how we'd get there. It was probably a blessing that Regine Posen was out of the country for work reasons, or it'd be a double smack-down on Beca. As soon as that blonde comes back, she'll do everything in her power to kick Beca out of the group and probably reinstate Aubrey as captain. My best friend and I both knew that Beca Mitchell was the best thing that's ever happened to the Bellas. Neither she nor I could top the beauty of Beca's works. This would be the beginning of a downward slope for all of us.

I showered to calm my nerves down before going to bed. The other half across the red line on the mattress was empty; Beca must've decided to spend the night in her home. It made me gloomier that she was not here with me in this stressing time. Beca had always felt like home to me. Just the scent of her hair brought back the childhood bliss that I used to get when my mom made me pies. And with a deep longing for her embrace, I succumbed to sleep.

The aftermath of last night's disappointments were still evident the following morning. Jessica and Ashley made breakfast today – filling in Beca's absence.

"Where's Head Bitch?" Aubrey inquired.

"Home. She sort of… lost it last night," I replied.

"Wonderful," she jeered, and I glared back.

At the table, I sat down beside Stacie, who was a little more low-spirited than everyone else. "I know it's dumb to ask you if you're okay because you're obviously not, but I can't think of any conversation-opener right now."

"He is so fucked up," Stacie murmured under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.

"Who is?"

"Donald," she whispered to me, afraid that someone else might overhear.

"What happened?"

"We started this ' _no strings attached_ ' thing weeks ago, and then one time, he gave me a rose. I freaked out of course, and got myself far away from him. But then he made a way to talk to me and said that the rose was some stupid test that I passed." Stacie took a spoonful of breakfast.

"I don't see how that's a problem for you."

With her mouth half-empty, she continued, "Last night, he sincerely admitted that the rose was real, and that he was lying when he said that it was a test. It wasn't a test. He really wanted to give me a rose. I think that's so messed up."

"I think that's so sweet," I added, and Stacie gave me a look of disbelief. "So that's the issue? He's attached and you don't like that fact?"

"I'm just afraid that he might show up at our door with more flowers and ask me out formally."

"Well, he probably will, Stace. You just have to break it to him that you don't like him."

She turned silent and continued to eat. "I just have to point that out, you mean?"

I nodded. "What's he like, anyway?"

I soon realized that the rest of the girls had finished their meals. Stacie turned her chair to face me completely and talked fast. "He's awkward, but he's not all that bad. I watch Gossip Girl marathons with him because he's into the show as well and he only babbled during commercials. Also, he's allergic to nuts, so when we hop into a convenience store for him to buy protection for ' _it_ ,' I only get nut-free chocolates. A-and there was this one time when my mom and I had a big fight and I was so devastated, and Donald was the only one who could make me laugh." She paused as if something came up in her head. "Uh-oh," she remarked before burying her face in her hands.

"Oh, Stacie. You like him." I blushed at how adorable Stacie and Donald seemed.

"Hey," a man's voice called from behind.

"Jesse! What's up?" I greeted.

A friendly smile was on his face. "I came to see Beca. She's not answering her phone. She slept in, huh?"

"She's at home. She didn't sleep here last night."

Jesse's brows furrowed in confusion. "I was just at the phone with Mr. Mitchell. She's not there."

"She probably went with that bartender she always talked about," Stacie jumped in.

"I already talked to McDowell. I had him check all the places Beca might've gone to in times like this," Jesse replied.

"What do you mean 'in times like this?'" Stacie inquired.

"When she doesn't get something she badly wants, she sort of… freaks out," said Jesse.

"She's probably trying to clear her head somewhere else, Jesse," I told him.

"Mr. Mitchell said that Beca didn't come home last night. That doesn't bother you, Chloe?"

That was when I felt a weird pang in my chest, and I could empathise with Jesse's anxiety. "I left her at the library last night. I didn't think-,"

"The library?!" Jesse panicked and he walked off. "Man, this is bad."

"Jesse, what's happening?! Where are you going?!"

"I'm getting Beca!"

Without delay, I ran to him. "I'm coming with you!" I grabbed my keys and we hurried to my car. My hands shivered as I drove through the streets.

"So you guys had a fight last night?" Jesse inquired.

"Yeah. She was being a kid with her frustration about losing the game to you guys."

"To Gregory Haull, you mean," corrected Jesse.

"Exactly. She just couldn't let go of it and it pissed me off."

He chuckled. "You don't just let go of that person who messed up with your dreams."

"So they were high school rivals, Beca didn't need to cry hard about not getting her vendetta."

"She has not told you about what Haull did two years ago, has she?"

I shook my head, my grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Please tell me."

Jesse took a deep breath. "Two years ago, Beca was a complete mess. With the diagnosis of her Sickle Cell and her mom dying, she couldn't cope up. I tried my best to keep her altogether. One day, an agent from Hollywood came to our school and announced about a competition for aspiring DJ's. The winner gets a contract with a record label in LA. Beca signed up, of course, and Haull. Day and night, Beca worked on her mix, revising it to different versions and trying out a lot of techniques. She didn't feel threatened with Haull being in the contest, actually. She just knew she was going to get it.

"On the day of the deadline, I was with Beca at our high school. She held her demo CD as she wore an excited smirk. The first contestant was in the room with the judges and we were waiting for her turn. Beca suddenly had something like an asthma attack right in her seat, and her inhaler didn't do her any good. I had to battle with her about leaving and getting medical attention. Eventually I thrived, and managed to get her to the clinic. I left the CD on Beca's chair, and entrusted it to the second contestant. Unfortunately, Beca and I figured out that Haull switched his demo with Beca's right before the second contestant had it. To cut the story short, Haull won the competition with Beca's masterpiece. He was the one who got to LA, and it made Beca very, very furious.

"Jesse, I don't see how that story would make any difference," I mocked.

"You don't get it, Chloe. That contract might've been Beca's ticket to her LA dream! She would've made a wonderful name for herself already, creating wonderful mixes for the LA crowd instead of studying here.

"Tell me that you won't feel the same way about getting your lifelong dreams crushed by some asshole, and I will stop convincing you that Beca isn't being immature."

"Now, I feel her," I said. "If she told me that story last night, things wouldn't have turned out this way."

Jesse shook his head. "You guys just started dating about a month ago. It's not like you have gotten to her most intimate depths already."

When we reached Beca's home, Jesse and I sprinted into the woods. The library came into sight, and we found Beca lying unconscious just past the main door.

"She must've tried to go after you last night, but her body gave up," Jesse commented as he carried Beca.

The hair at the back of my neck stood and my heart was beating so fast. Tears fell out of my eyes as we ran. Jesse noticed this, and he tried to ease my anxiety. "If you're one of the few who are involved with Beca Mitchell, frequent runs to the hospital aren't uncommon." He gave me a short smile.

"The last time I brought her to the ER, she was dying, Jesse!"

"Well, her breathing is stable right now. This must be just fatigue or something. You have to get used to this." He panted.

I stayed in the hospital for hours, hoping to be the first person Beca sees when she wakes up.

"Hey," said Beca weakly.

"Hey, you're awake," I greeted, and I gave her a kiss on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Stronger than last night," she giggled. "Are you still mad, Chloe?"

I traced soft circles on her hand as I held it. "You used to call me Oh-Chlo."

"You didn't want me to call you by that nickname."

"My head was filled with anger when I said that; I didn't mean it."

Beca grinned at me.

"I was wrong to walk out on you last night. I'm sorry, Becs."

"You were right about everything. It's okay. I'm guessing Jesse told you about  _Gregory, The Shit_ , or you wouldn't be here smiling at me." She laughed.

"Aubrey called an hour ago. She told me about Regine storming into Casa Bella this morning, looking for your ass."

Beca rolled her eyes.

"Take this: she packed up your stuff and had it ready for pickup at the porch. What a bitch!"

"That's just Regine Posen being Regine Posen. And Aubrey's reinstated?"

I nodded.

"Don't worry. I'll try to visit you as frequently as I can."

"You better." I gave her a short kiss.

"I got another call this afternoon," I told her with a grin.

"The Barden Institute of Arts said they liked my work, and that I'm qualified for the second phase of screening."

"Oh-Chlo, that's amazing!" She threw herself to me and hugged me tight. "I told you they'll love it!" Beca was more excited than I was. "You're going, right? Please, tell me that you are!"

"Of course, I am, Becs! If that's what's going to make you happy, of course I will go."

"Don't do it for me, Oh-Chlo. Do it for yourself." She went in for a kiss, her lips lingering for some time.

"You seem not to get nervous when you're hospitalized."

"What's there to be anxious about?"

"I don't know. What if you don't wake up anymore? Your acute attacks are pretty scary, you got to admit that."

"As long as I don't forget taking my meds, I know I'll always wake up." Beca scooted to the side of her bed and gestured for me to lie down with her. We cuddled, and today, she was the little spoon – curling herself into me like a cute puppy. She asked about how the girls are doing after last night's disappointment, and I told her about the loss of spirit in everyone. I even told her about Stacie's issues, and she found them highly entertaining.

* * *

 

_[After two weeks…]_

I knew it was Beca when the doorbell rang, so I immediately ran to the porch. Beca stood there, in her usual glory, and I greeted her with a kiss and a tight embrace. I had not seen her all week, as we both were busy with our academics. Skype didn't help much too. Two nights ago, it totally slipped off my head that I was supposed to engage in a video chat with Beca. I remembered just before I went to bed at two in the morning, and when I opened the chat, Beca was lying sideways, her face in front of her laptop, and she was snoring peacefully. I left a message instead and took a screenshot, of course.

This wasn't even a formal date for us. Beca sneaked out of her requirements for Psychology just to have a quick coffee date with me at Vyecertt Café today. Still, this was better than nothing at all.

There wasn't anything special about our coffee date, to be honest. I asked Beca about her day, but all she talked about were her school requirements. We didn't even reach an hour of staying at the café before she decided to walk me back to Casa Bella.

"Did they already set a date for your interview?" Beca asked as we walked – the sunset warming our skins.

"Yeah. The art director scheduled me for next week."

"I'm so excited!"

"I know, Becs. That's all your mouth spoke about… my crazy interview."

"I'm going to be there at the opening of the exhibit. I'll bring Jesse, McDowell and some of my other buddies," she acted like a kindergarten eager for the opening of a new playhouse.

_My number one fan…_

We reached the mansion after a couple of minutes and we bid our goodbyes. Before I went in, Beca handed me a CD of her work. She said it'll help us get a shot at Nationals. I reminded her that Aubrey was captain again and that she wouldn't like anyone's opinion. Beca convinced me to try talking to her about using her mix.

We'll see. Fingers crossed.


	17. Chapter 2-6: Perfect Definition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Thank you so much for the feedback! They help me write better and faster.

**Chapter 2-6: Perfect Definition**

 

Mornings here at Casa Bella still felt different without Beca. The new cook was so lousy – all she could do was deep-fry what she could find in the fridge. Most of the time, she woke up later than half of the girls so she ended up not making anything at all for breakfast (which pissed Aubrey off so much). Everyone seemed to have gotten used to Beca's healthy lifestyle, that most of us actually preferred the new cook waking up late so that we could make our own simple salad instead. At least, it would be yummier and healthier than deep-fry.

Today would be Aubrey's third Saturday as new captain of the Bellas. Today would also be the third time this week that I would try to convince her to use Beca's mix. The Bellas' new dance studio was wonderful. The dreadful rehearsals became less dreadful with its nice ambiance and lighting. Two hours of rehearsing choreography had passed when Aubrey, by the intervention of the heavens above, decided to bless us with a fifteen minute break. So far, the routine was going okay. But then again, we wouldn't win with an " _okay_ " performance. The Treblemakers satisfied themselves with having Gregory Haull in their team, while we just lost our own gem:  _Beca Mitchell_.

"You haven't even heard the mix, Bree," I argued after Aubrey shook her head as if in reflex upon seeing Beca's CD in my hand.

"I have, Chlo. I listened to it on the first night you gave me that thing. The mix was nice. It was different."

"But?"

"But it was  _different_."

"Different is… bad?"

"Yes. What the Bellas need, is Beca's usual work. You know, the one with the consistent upbeat tempo and the  _punk-disco-rock_ kind of stuff? That's what she used to let us perform. That's what we're going with at the final competition." Aubrey grabbed Beca's demo from my hand. "This mix? It's a different track. There are soft tones, and a semi-remixed ballad, and the  _punk-disco-rock_  part only comes in at around thirty seconds to the end of the whole mix. It won't be powerful enough."

I was about to argue back when my phone rang from my purse. It was Beca. I was kind of expecting it'd be Mr. Mitchell at the end of the line, informing me that Beca is on a crazy visit to the hospital again. That was what the last two calls from Beca's phone was all about: her pit stops at  _St. Martin de Porres Medical Center_. Jesse suggested that I  _get used_  to it, and it had been a sloppy-working progress. My heart still hammered in my chest every time I hear such stuff from Jesse or Mr. Mitchell. And Beca's nights at the hospital were my sleepless nights.

"Hey, Oh-Chlo!" Beca greeted as I picked up.

"You're not with Doc Eaton again, are you?"

She giggled. "No."

"Then, what's up?"

She stuttered before having the focus to form words. "I-, I can't go tonight, Oh-Chlo. I'm so sorry."

I sighed. None of our planned hangouts these past few weeks came through. No, I didn't count that quick coffee run as our  _'hangout'_  time. "Psychology requirements?"

"No."

I heard a rough sneeze.

"I just got a bit of a cold," said Beca, "and my head's filled with concrete." She sniffed.

"Beca, if you're sick, I can go there and spend the night," I comforted.

"I'll be fine. It's just simple flu. Besides, Aubrey will kill you if you bail out of rehearsals. The championship match is only days away. You guys need to polish it all up as soon as possible."

"Are you kidding?!" I growled. "I'm dying to get out of here! And your dad still is on that crazy faculty trip! You shouldn't be alone there!" I hung up, and hurried to grab my jug of water. I would take any tiny opportunity to see Beca.

Before I could disappear from sight, Aubrey yelled my name, calling everyone's attention.

"Where are you going?!" Aubrey's hands rested proudly on her hips, her eyes throwing knives at me from across the studio.

"I have an emergency," I replied calmly.

"Emergency?" She scoffed. "What's the emergency? You can tell us. We're like family here, right?" Her voice was challenging, and so mad, like she wouldn't be taking any explanation.

I took a deep breath as the tensed atmosphere in the studio crept along my skin like a gush of ice-cold wind. "My girlfriend is sick."

"Is she in the hospital?" Aubrey asked – her tone almost rhetorical, without an iota of concern in her face.

"No," I said sheepishly as I looked down.

"Then get your ass back here, Red! She can take care of herself."

I looked around at the other girls and their eyes, which were tainted with fatigue but were kept strong-willed by their hearts, pleaded that we all stay hand-in-hand in this final fight. I couldn't turn down that sacred plea so I walked back. Before I laid my jug and phone down at the floor, my ringtone went off – signaling a new message.

"Sorry, Oh-Chlo. I had to do it. Don't get mad," The message read, and I clenched my teeth and shook my head at Beca's triumph to have me stay here.  _So she texted Aubrey, huh…_

The grandfather clock ticked midnight. I heard it from my room; Casa Bella was drowning in complete silence. Everyone dozed off right after the dreadful rehearsals. My back dug on the left side of my king bed (on Beca's  _used-to-be_  side of the bed). I tried calling Beca's phone, but it just rang. My head wouldn't let me sleep. I'm worried about Beca's status. Actually, I'm more worried about tomorrow: my interview day. Beca had been talking about it since I mentioned it to her. I agreed to go because it made her be gleeful like that, when really, I never felt like going. I didn't want my art to get so much attention. Beca said that it might be my key to a successful career as an artist, but something about it scared me like hell.

I had to leave it behind for a while, or else my head would keep me awake all night long.

A frantic knock on my door woke me up the next morning, then I heard my girlfriend calling out my name like crazy. I walked weakly to the door and opened it to let an  _out-of-breath_  Beca Mitchell into Room 222.

"Beca, it is six in the morning," I said while rubbing the sleep off my eyes. "What's up?"

"Oh-Chlo, why are you still in your PJ's?!" Beca scolded. "Your interview starts in an hour!"

I shut the door. At that very moment, my brain hotwired into full alertness. "About that," I started, my pulse starting to race as I tried to choose what words to say. "I-, I decided not to go."

Beca's eyebrows shot skyward, steam shooting from her ears. "You're not going to the interview? Why?!"

"Becs, I don't think it'll do me something worthwhile. I don't like my art getting too much attention," I explained.

"No! You just want your life to stop being so perfect! That's what it is!" Beca yelled.

My eyes squinted to the words that Beca just spit out. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're scared that you might turn out to be one intensely successful artist and your track towards being a doctor might just disappear for good! You're scared that your life might end up being an artist who sketches stuff!" Beca paced up and down the room.

My voice rose, but I kept myself from leveling with her fury. "What's wrong with that? Why are you even angry?"

"Because you're obsessed with forcing your life to have scratches!"

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are, Chloe!" Beca argued. "You've told me stories about your parents, your family, and I think they're all very lovely even if I haven't met them yet. Your childhood stories, they're all good times, you know? I don't recall one tale that was a bit depressing to hear. And what intrigues me is that you don't seem too happy recalling those times. That's when I figured it all out. You're rich, beautiful, smart, and talented, a-and you have two caring parents who enjoy a sincere marriage, and you're loved by everyone around you. That's when I knew, that you hate your life just because it was going so perfect. And that's your problem, Chloe."

Forget bridling my anger. "What the fuck are you saying?! You have no idea how-,"

"Then why did you try to run away from home on your last year of high school, huh?!" Beca continued. "You were jealous of the other kids, because they got problems, they got their own pains, and you don't. They have broken families, bastard siblings, drunkard dads, insane moms, and such. And you think that it's gold that they're undergoing struggles and that makes them alive and vibrant. Hell! That's why you think you want to be a doctor! So that your life might actually mean something. It's your fucking obsession! And now that your chance at being a wonderful artist comes along, you resent it because it might make you less alive. You're obsessed with pain. Hell! That's probably the reason why you are so into me!"

We were face to face with each other, yelling words. "Now, wait a second! Don't you dare take it on that-,"

"I have a dead mom, an illness, and a troubled social life! I'm your perfect definition of beauty because I am your perfect definition of pain!"

My hand threw illogically to her cheek, and it finally halted her talking, her face froze looking sideward to where my slap left her. "And what about you, Beca?! You're in a fucking complete denial that you're dying."

She looked at me with disgust, and her breathing started to race.

"There! I said it! You can't accept the fact that one of these years, your Sickle Cell will end your life and will leave people shaking their heads and muttering  _'she was so young'_  like a mantra."

Beca ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not dying."

"You are, Beca! And you know it! You've known it for a long time, you just didn't want to pay it some attention. That mask that you've been wearing around everyone else. It is to protect you from the pain of dying in oblivion. That's why you're acting like a bitch around us when you first came in. Every now and then, they see spurts of your  _'good acts'_  because that's who you are. But then that good feeling threatens your whole ego and so you regress to pushing everyone away."

She wiped the tears off her face. "I stopped pushing you away, Oh-Chlo."

"You did, and at first I was grateful. I wanted you to treat everyone the way you treat me. That's where you fail." I bit my lips to rein more words from being spoken out, but I wasn't strong enough to hide. "I am tired of making exceptions for you, Beca! You pretend like that big chip on your shoulder is about Gregory Haull breaking your little dreams, but it's not! You just needed to displace your desperation and anger towards someone or something else! And that's your problem, Beca! You're dying, and you can't accept it!"

I stared at her reddened cheeks where her tears flowed rampant through, and the pain that her eyes contained, looked back at me with defeat. We said nothing as Beca tried to calm her breathing.

"What happens now?" Her voice turned little. "Is this the part where we end things between us?"

Somehow, I was longing for her to utter  _'I love you'_  after that inquiry, but she didn't – just like all the other previous times wherein I told her those three words and she just smiled back. We all need to hear those three little words sometimes, or else we begin to doubt. "I don't feel you, Beca. Sometimes, I wonder if what we had was real."

" _Was_ ," Beca repeated the verb tense I used and looked down as she cried more. "That says it." She turned away from me and headed out to the door.

"Beca!" I called out before she completely disappeared from sight. "Beca!"

Her bloodshot eyes showed again. "What?"

"Stay, please. Don't leave me." My voice broke as tears flooded down my face.

Beca slowly walked back in. We stood in silence, looking at each other. Just like the rest of our previous days together, I knew she was thinking the same thing: that we just told each other some awful things, and that no one should apologize for it, because at some point, they were true. That summed up my mental reply to Beca arguing that I liked her only because she had life troubles… I like her, I love her, not because she is indeed my perfect definition of pain, but because we have that special connection of being in the same page about certain things. I wondered why it wasn't enough for me. I guessed, I was too caught up in stabbing knives on my white wall for it not to be plain, boring, and uninteresting anymore.

Beca walked to where I stood and reached for my face, kissing me on the cheek before whispering to me, "I know how hard it was for you to beg me to stay, since your subconscious impulsively just let people go because people really do go away at some point. And I'm thankful that you're willing to fight for us – that's probably one thing I may not be able to do for others. I want you and I know that you want me back, so I'll stay and fight with you as long as I can."

We shared another  _set of euphoric turns_  right after that. Her dry lips on mine felt so lively, like a couple's first kiss, or a couple's last. It was so eager and true. I led Beca to  _our_  bed and let her spoon me. We slept the rest of the morning away.

The moment I woke up, a smile pulled out of my face – reflecting my satisfaction with the peaceful rest that I got. Beca's arm was still wrapped over me. I removed it and turned to face her sleeping figure.

"Beca, it is lunch time. We should eat." I nudged her. No response. "Beca-," I shook her arms rigorously and still got no iota of movement from her.

 _Jeez, not again_.

I got up and checked her breathing. It's stable, thank goodness. Now, I have to call Jesse for help taking Beca to her pit stop.

* * *

Mr. Mitchell got to see Beca in the hospital the next day. He came straight from the airport.

"How is she?" He inquired.

"Stable," I replied. "But she hasn't opened her eyes yet."

"Really? Shocker."

"Why?"

"It's just… it's been over 24 hours that she's in a coma-like state. It doesn't usually go on for that long."

"And, that's… bad?"

"Not really," Mr. Mitchell said. "It happened to her twice already, and on those two times, she had tons of new take-home medications."

"I see." I chuckled. "Bad for the wallet."

Mr. Mitchell laughed harder than I did and nodded.

"I'm going to unpack my stuff at home. Will you be okay here, Chloe?"

"Of course, yeah. I'll take care of everything here for a while." Mr. Mitchell left and I was alone with my girlfriend once more.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, signaling a call from Aubrey.

"Rehearsals, right now. Where are you?" Her annoying voice greeted.

"Wow, not even a ' _hello_ ' first. Nice." I retorted.

"Seriously, why isn't your ass in here?!"

"My girlfriend is sick," I replied. "And yes, she's in the hospital right now, so I have the right to pass."

Aubrey's tone turned on a new emotion. "Ohmigod, what happened? Is she going to be okay?"

"It's too much to explain over the phone. To cut it all short, she has a chronic illness and she had an acute exacerbation yesterday. Is she going to be okay? I don't know yet. Nobody does, I guess."

"I hate life," replied Aubrey. "She better wake up tonight because I need you here at tomorrow's rehearsals."

I chuckled. "Yeah."

Somewhere deep in my soul, a wonderful sigh of relief pulled out just thinking that I didn't have to be around Aubrey today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. Remember that knife art that Chloe and Jesse discussed on "Chapter 1-10: Cornflakes?" I told you, it was important. =))


	18. Chapter 2-7: My Blackmails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! Shoutout to bechloefan, hi there. Beca's side of everything will come in the third part of this story. Yes people, this is the last chapter of With One Note Part II. Tell me what you think of it!

**Chapter 2-7: My Blackmails**

 

_AUBREY POSEN'S POV…_

I sat in front of my desk like a statue – not budging an inch, fixed like a marble bust. I drowned myself into the music that my ears loved to hear. Today would be another day of rehearsals, but without Chloe to bounce my ideas with.

 _Poor Beca_ … I never figured out that she could have had a chronic illness (whatever it is). She always seemed so – strong and well.

Speaking of  _'strong and well,'_  my mind and body started throwing hints about giving up because of all the things I had to do for Nationals. I couldn't sleep and sometimes, I couldn't eat. There was just too much to ponder on. I was lucky enough to receive this second chance at being captain. I can finally lead my girls to the Bellas' much-awaited victory. Then Father would finally be proud of me.

 _I got it all mapped out._  
_If I can pull three jobs a year,_  
 _I'll be rich. I'll have wealth and fame._  
 _Everyone will know my name._

Frank Wildhorn's composition rang from my earphones. The music, giving such wonderful justice to its wonderful lyrics. I have this song on repeat for almost an hour now.

At last, the active tab on my browser,  _VentOut dot org_ , beeped when Rykerr called. I paused my iTunes and picked up.

"Please, tell me that you're not thinking about choreography at this very moment," Rykerr greeted.

I giggled. "You sound like my uncle Adrian."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah. This random voice thing of  _VentOut_  really rocks."

"Couldn't agree more," said Rykerr.

I heard music playing in the background from the other end of the line. "What's that song called again?"

"It's  _'Don't You'_  by Simple Minds. It's a wonderful track off the soundtrack of The Breakfast Club."

"And I was just listening to  _'This World Will Remember Me'_  from Bonnie and Clyde."

"Bonnie and Clyde, that poor musical," remarked Rykerr… then I cracked into laughter. "I didn't know you were into soundtracks, Aubrey.  _'Don't You'_  is one of my favorites."

"Not really," I replied. "Remember the mix I was telling you about yesterday? The one Beca made supposedly for Nationals? It has that song in it, along with other modern upbeat things."

"And I'm guessing that you didn't like it…"

"I do, actually. Beca's a fucking prodigy for having that song mash up so well with other songs that are completely out of its genre."

"But you're not using it for Nationals." His tone sounded confused.

"No. Everyone else in the group wanted to, but I decided not to go with it." I sighed. "It's killing me because I have this whole Nationals thing coming up, and Declan's been sending me a lot of essays to revise, a-and Chloe has been after my ass for that stupid mix, and everyone hates me for being the antagonist in all this. I mean, what's the point of-,"

"Aubrey," Rykerr interrupted my speech. "It's a lot of pressure, I know. You got to stand up to it. And no, I wasn't referring to Aubrey Posen rising up to expectations… because I know that she already is meeting them with a bang. It's just that, Aubrey Posen needs to calm her shoulders and just live through the attacks day by day."

I couldn't respond for about a minute. I couldn't figure out if Rykerr was sincere with his words, or that he was just trying to comfort me in the best way he could… or both. "You just love shoving your wisdom quotes into the conversation, huh Ryk?" I let out a soft-toned giggle.

"Nah, I just love interrupting you." He laughed.

I took a deep breath. "What am I going to do?"

"That's up to you, Aubrey. They're your Bellas, and I know you don't want them hating you. But you're also the team captain, who needs to have a far-ahead vision of things for making decisions. You'll figure it out. I know you can."

Rykerr was supposed to be the  _wind beneath my wings_ , or whatever. At least, that was what I think he was to me. Ever since we started chatting, it was always me ranting and then him encouraging me to lay a few worries off my back and that I can do whatever life will have to throw at me. Sweet, I know, but those words were never convincing enough. I just want to make the choice that will lead me to my goals.

I just have that lust for greatness. When I say my own name, I could always imagine it resounding through every corner and causing people to give me lots of patting on my back. How can I please the world, when I can't even please Father?

 _We weren't born to live and die in Texas._  
_This is my plan. There's no plan B._  
 _And this world will remember me._  
 _You and this world will remember me._

* * *

_CHLOE BEALE'S POV…_

I sat at the little couch that was in Beca's hospital room. The sun had started showing up again, and yet Beca was still in her sleep, which seemed like forever. I wondered how the Bellas did yesterday at the rehearsals. It was the first stain on my attendance record, and today might be the second one, if Beca won't wake up. I left Aubrey a message last night, checking if she finally had the enlightenment to use my girlfriend's mix for Nationals. I didn't get an answer, so I took it as a  _'no.'_

Tapping my pen rhythmically on my notebook, I thought hard about the next words that I wanted to bring up. This hospitalization made me miss Beca's voice, and to lessen the longing, I scribbled whatever popped into my head. It helped for a while, but then this coma-like thing went on for the rest of the night and my mind started getting itself all over the place.

Mr. Mitchell didn't get to come back yesterday, because there were lots of absent faculties over at Barden University, and he couldn't refuse the substitute duties. It was just me, Jesse, and Ashley looking over this damn brunette that we all love. They went home at dusk yesterday, so I was alone with Beca all night long.

It didn't take much time when Mr. Mitchell finally arrived. He was in a sweater and in some nice khaki-colored pants, giving off the clue that he would have to rush to Barden after this visit.

"How is she?" He whispered, afraid to startle her daughter. "What time did she wake up yesterday?"

"She hasn't woken up yet, Mr. Mitchell," I replied, trying to sound calm.

"What?!" His voice kind of rose to the tension. "What did the doctor say?" He paced up and down the room, running his hands through his hair.

"Doc Eaton has yet to make his rounds this morning."

He didn't say anything. He just continued walking up and down, his steps getting a little bit more frantic.

"Is it getting bad? Jesse said that as long as her breathing's fine, she'll be fine." I inquired.

"I'm going to talk to Eaton. I n-need to know what's going on, this light coma thing has gone way too long!" Mr. Mitchell headed to the door, but it opened too soon, revealing Doctor Eaton with his clipboard.

"Mr. Mitchell," he greeted, although his tone was dull.

Mr. Mitchell shrugged and stretched out his arms to his widened palms. Doc Eaton got the message, and took a deep breath before approaching more comfortably, and starting his explanation.

"Beca has never been out for this long. We both know that," Doc Eaton began. "I can't say for sure, how long this will be, or what happens when she finally wakes up. Her vital signs, at first were very stable, but for the last twelve hours, there had been slight glitches which were taken well care of. There are no signs of neurological damage when my intern checked her pupils and her reflexes."

"That's good news, at least," Mr. Mitchell commented. "Isn't it?"

Doc Eaton looked down and sighed. "Again, I can't say for sure. I mean, on the bright side, yes, the master organ hasn't been exactly compromised aside from the coma, but looking at the downside, it rules out the possibility that the sickle cell blocked some vessels in her brain – like a stroke. That means, we have to look all over her system again and figure out what's causing this trouble on her reticular activating system."

Mr. Mitchell folded his arms, as he tried to process what Doc Eaton just explained. "So it's all just a smokescreen again… Beca's diagnosis is behind some hazy smoke?"

"More like, trapped in darkness, Mr. Mitchell," Doc Eaton remarked. "I've been Beca's primary physician for years, but here I am right now, walking in complete darkness. I already called for some of my friends at Hematology and Neurology to have a look at your daughter's case. It's already a full team on the work, so here's hoping we shed a light to all this by the end of the day, or tomorrow."

When Mr. Mitchell finally had the courage to give an understanding nod, the good doctor left the room and I was left with an anxious father. He paced up and down the room for a little bit more, and then sat down to try keeping it altogether.

"She didn't take her medications two days ago," Mr. Mitchell muttered under his breath.

I furrowed my brows as I tried to process what he just said. "What?"

Mr. Mitchell looked at me with tired eyes. "Beca didn't take her meds on the day of her attack. I saw her pillbox when I got home yesterday. It was still on the dining table, and the meds that were meant for that morning were untouched. Beca never forgets to take her medications, that's for sure. Even when she partied all night with that Jackson kid, and woke up with a hangover, she still took all her meds on time."

"I-, I don't understand." My pulse rushed as I gulped nervously.

He gave out a shy smirk and chuckled. "There must've been somewhere that she thought she ought to be, and had to hurry there very early that she delayed popping her pills. Whatever it was, I hope it was worth it."

My mind went to the morning of my supposed interview, the morning of her attack. Beca was in Casa Bella very early, and she was excited as ever.

My jaw dropped a little, and the hair at the back of my neck stood.  _It can't be._

Mr. Mitchell offered that he take charge for now, while I go home and get some  _real_  rest. I refused, and had to exert lots of effort convincing him that he should go to his classes while I stay here and keep him updated instead.

I dragged a chair towards the bedside and sat as I thought about how it might have been my fault that Beca is in this damn hospital. She was sick the night before, then she didn't take her medications, then we fought and her breathing struggled… I knew it was wrong to take this all on me, but I couldn't help it. If I had gone to the interview, at least Beca's attack might've meant something at the very least.

I stood and approached Beca. Her chestnut locks still fenced her small face, and I adored it. This time though, her deep blue eyes were out of sight. It was depressing, because I longed the way I look straight into her eyes and see herself and myself at the same time through it.

I gave her a light kiss on her forehead, lingering there for a little while as I caressed the strands of hair. I kissed her ear, and anchored my cheek beside hers, my hand gently pressing on her other cheek, wanting the feel of her skin against mine.

"You bitch, why didn't you take your meds?" I whispered to her, almost sounding like a bridled yell. I started crying hard as I let out my defeated anger. "Why didn't you take your meds? Why didn't you take your meds, you stupid little brat." I hung to her hospital gown as I let my cries out.

"I know you can hear me," I whispered to her again when I had calmed down a little bit. "It's me, Oh-Chlo."

Having to say her nickname of me, and not have a slight of some kind of perky reaction from her, led my eyes to pool with tears once more.

"I'm sorry about not going to the interview. I'm sorry we fought. I hope you didn't believe me when I said that you were dying. I hope that you meant it when you said you'd fight for us like I would. Now, is that time, babe. Fight for yourself."

I pulled out and cupped her face. I had to take a good look at her. I spoke still in an almost-whisper, and I uttered every word carefully, and with slight desperation in my voice. "I'm writing you a song, by the way. It's not yet done, but it's already half of a song. But I won't sing it to you even if I finish it in hour." I took a deep breath to hold the rest of my tears. "So you see, you have to wake up… because you'll only hear it when those deep-blue eyes meet me again."

A weak smile slowly pulled out of my face as I recalled her lovely presence. "You always loved my blackmails. So this one, I'm sticking to."

The tears raced down my face again as I pleaded for her to wake up. "I'm not leaving your side in this, Becs. We have differences and quite a few common grounds, but I love you. Do you hear? I love you so much. We have this special connection of understanding each other's deepest layers, and I love that about us. You have to wake up. I miss you, Beca. After we fought, I asked you not to leave me. So don't leave me. Wake up for me, Beca. Wake up. I love you more than anything else."

I lifted her oxygen mask temporarily to kiss her pale lips, and then retreated back to my chair while I wiped the sadness off my eyes.

After a few hours, there was a knock on the door, and Cynthia Rose and Ashley came in with some fruits. They gave me reassuring hugs before they spoke words to Beca, telling her jokes and making fun of Aubrey.

"Chloe, we need to do something about Beca's mix," said Cynthia Rose when she approached.

"Talk to Aubrey, not me."

"You know she won't listen to us."

"She won't listen to me either."

"I know," she said, and I looked at her with uncertainty. "We wouldn't win with the one we're rehearsing, because chances are, Gregory Haull's mix will fool or buy the judges. We need out of the box. And I've heard Beca's work, and it's different. Different will be our slight edge."

I shook my head. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Lead us," Cynthia Rose began. "Lead us like Beca did. Let's use her mix. Let's rehearse it."

"Behind Aubrey's back? Are you insane? She's my best friend… and our captain."

She let out a sigh. "Nobody's perfect. Nobody gets it best all the freaking time. Aubrey got her cards all wrong. We all see that, but she doesn't. Let's rehearse Beca's mix, with your own choreography to it, and then show it to her."

"I can't leave Beca here," I said.

"Yes you can," barged in Mr. Mitchell as he entered. "I decided to skip my afternoon classes so I can stay here. You go home and help your girls. I'll handle everything here. I won't take any excuses this time, Chloe. You've taken care of Beca very well."

* * *

_[Later that day…]_

The gathered Bellas in the dance studio (without Aubrey) looked determined in nailing the upcoming competition. We've been working Beca's mix for about two hours now, and no one seemed to want a water break. I gave them a fifteen minute rest though, because they deserved it. I played Beca's mix in the background while they went to the bleachers to rehydrate. Aubrey charged in, and killed the stereo. Everyone looked to her direction in shock, while she looked back with an odd blank face.

"What is this?" Aubrey inquired, her tone flat.

"Don't look at Chloe. It's my fault. I convinced her to do try out Beca's mix with the group," said Cynthia Rose.

"Without my permission? Don't I have a thing with permissions? Nationals is in three days!" No one said anything back to that rhetorical remark by Aubrey. She wasn't even as angry as I imagined she would be, but it was all still scary.

Finally, I spoke up. "Aubrey, we were just thinking of-,"

"Of the betterment of our group, I know."

"We wouldn't win by going the same track as the Trebles," I elaborated.

She didn't reply at once, which tensed the atmosphere even more. "Chloe, you think you can polish the new choreography until tomorrow?"

Everyone in the studio owned widened eyes and smirks as Aubrey caved in.

"Are you kidding me?!" I challenged my best friend. "I can finish it up before midnight!"

Aubrey walked deeper into the studio and snapped loud claps from her hands. "Alright, everybody! No time for breaks! Get up to your feet! Let's finish this war once and for all!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. I enjoyed writing this chapter sooooo much so I hope you guys had a great time reading it! Tell me what you think! Part III is coming up!


	19. Chapter 3-1: Hugs and Songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) I LOVE YOU ALL.

**With One Note: Part III**

**Chapter 3-1: Hugs and Songs**

Everything silenced when the girls heard it and the confetti fell wild everywhere. The bright lights on the stage hyped up the hugging and the jumping and the screaming that the Bellas made as Aubrey received the large trophy. The roaring applause from the audience drowned the auditorium into a gigantic balloon of energy. The Bellas had won over the Treblemakers, and four other competitors.

Chloe, who burst into tears, rewound the wonderful experience in her head. The loud thumping of her heart when they prepared for their final performance resurfaced in vivid memory. She remembered closing her eyes backstage, thinking of Beca – how she could've been in the audience with her wide and lively eyes… how she could have been cheering so hard during the performance. She remembered whispering to herself how the performance, the choreography was for her dear girlfriend. She remembered Aubrey during her pre-show pep talk; Aubrey said that their final shot wasn't going to be for themselves solely, but moreover, for Beca Mitchell, the girl who wasn't nice half of the time, but definitely led the group to this opportunity. Chloe gave her best friend a tight hug as her expression of gratitude.

The Bellas didn't lose an iota of the hyped mood when they retreated backstage to their dressing room. The hallways chanted their name, and the smiles around them uttered their compliments.

As she entered the room, Aubrey held a hand to her chest in quick shock upon seeing Declan and her father waiting for her with a sweet grin on his face. She ran to him and embraced him.

"You did a fantastic job, Aubrey," Her father said while they stayed in that hug. "It didn't matter if you won or not. It was a magical performance. You should be proud of yourself."

"It does matter, Father," Aubrey argued. "Last year's debacle tainted my name… our name. And now, all of it's changed."

He pulled out of the hug with a confused look on his face. "You were worried about redeeming our name this whole year?! Why, you shouldn't have! We, Posen's, have so much to be honored about ourselves. A couple of mistakes would never top that kind of pride." He lifted her chin up and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

Declan, of course, crushed her favorite sibling through a child's comforting embrace and bombarded her with words of cheers.

Stacie stared at the entrance door to the Treblemakers' dressing room. She thought about barging in, congratulating Donald for the nice work, and giving him a nice kiss, but the fight she initiated during their last make-out session (when Donald admitted his feelings) prevented her from making it all happen. Sighing, she walked back into their room, and blended in.

Jesse packed up his stuff while Bumper scolded Haull in front of the rest of the boys. Because of the Bellas' win, and the delight he had when he sang with his Treble-mates, there was joy in Jesse's heart, but Beca's stagnant condition at the hospital turned him blue in a snap. He sneaked out of their dressing room and opted to go for the one-hour bus ride to the hospital.

"Jesse! Wait up!" Chloe called as he walked past the doors of the auditorium. "Where are you headed to?"

"To Beca, of course. I'm taking the bus. I don't think the boys are ready to leave yet." Jesse gave her a pat on the back. "Wonderful job out there, by the way. I know you're all busy celebrating right now. Not to fret though, miss." He chuckled. "I'll tell Beca what happened once I get there."

Jesse turned and walked off.

"I'll give you a ride," offered Chloe, halting him. "We'll give you a ride."

" _We?_ " Jesse quirked his head as he tried to process the thought.

"The Bellas wanted to give back for Beca's wonderful mix, so we're all going there in about ten minutes," explained Chloe.

"Oh," muttered Jesse. "Nah, I think I'll just take the bus. Aren't you girls like… allergic to Treblemakers?" He joked.

Chloe held Jesse's hand and led him back to the Bellas' dressing room. "Come on, Jes! And besides, our van smells way better than the bus."

Everyone was quiet on the way to the parking lot… no cheering, no jumping, and no singing around. Everyone knew about Beca's non-progressive state, and though they weren't all exactly in good terms with the brunette, they cared. For most of them, Beca was sort of a detached leader during her reign, but that didn't make them think that her suffering was sort of a deserved punishment on her part.

Jesse clutched his satchel tight as he walked with the girls. Aubrey, who was walking in front of him, tripped over a distention on the asphalt ground causing her to shift off her balance.

"Woah, Aub!" Jesse exclaimed as he caught her arm just in time. "Are you okay?"

Aubrey pulled out from dependency to quickly regain composure. "I'm fine," she uttered as she fixed the collar of her top. "We're not that close for you to call me nicknames, by the way… so it's going to be  _'Aubrey,'_  got it?"

Jesse simply nodded as they all continued walking.

"Why are you with us, again?" Aubrey questioned.

"He's visiting Beca as well, so I offered him a ride," Chloe answered for Jesse.

"Are you Beca's boyfriend or something?" Aubrey inquired.

Jesse and Chloe threw confused faces at each other. "Isn't Chloe dating her?"

"Yea, Bree! Am I not dating her for weeks now?!" Chloe chided with complete disbelief.

"I totally forgot," Aubrey apologized. "Then what does that make you, Treble boy?"

"Her childhood friend," He replied, with a playful smirk across his face.

Aubrey looked at him straight in his eyes nonchalantly, saying nothing. Jesse, on the other hand, stared back into the emerald eyes that made him catch his breath.

* * *

The nurses allowed them into Beca's hospital suite all at once, which pleased Chloe very much. Sebastian Mitchell, in his Barden shirt and jeans, congratulated the Bellas as they settled inside. He was happy that his daughter's ex-group paid her a visit.

While the girls came to Beca's bed to say what they had to say, Chloe inquired about updates on her girlfriend's condition.

"Eaton made his rounds about three hours ago," said Sebastian.

"And?"

Sebastian folded his arms coldly, and sighed. "Nothing's changing, Chloe. They ruled out everything else, and stuck with the notion that the clot is somewhere in her brain."

Chloe felt her hands quiver. "I thought they dismissed that it wasn't in her brain. They're concluding with a diagnosis that is based on  _'whatever seems closest?!'_  That's insane!"

"Eaton said that the brain has a lot of blood vessels and it could be anywhere. Since her admission here, he had been giving Beca stuff that should dissolve clots in her system but, well, nothing's happening." Sebastian stroked his chin as he debated within himself, whether or not he should break assumptions to Chloe.

"What happens now? What else did Doc Eaton say?" Chloe bit her bottom lip as she struggled not to tear up.

"There aren't bad signs for us to jump to the worst case scenario, but there aren't also enough good signs for us to stay highly positive," said Sebastian. "But Eaton did give out the possibility that Beca might end up in a deeper coma which may last for months."

Chloe started to cry, her hands cupped over her lips. Sebastian pulled her into a comforting hug as the girls gathered around her. It didn't take long before Ashley and Jesse sobbed as well. The rest of the Bellas looked down and said nothing, as they took the moment to be strong for those who couldn't be.

Aubrey held Chloe's hands and led her to sit down and calm herself.

"It'll be alright, Chloe," the blonde said as she pulled away the stray strands of hair off Chloe's face.

"What if she never wakes up, Bree?" said Chloe weakly. "She said she always wakes up as long as she had taken her meds. This time, she forgot to take them. What if she never wakes up?" And she cried aloud once more.

"She can still hear you, Chlo," whispered Aubrey. "Do you think Beca likes it that you're thinking that way?"

Chloe just looked down on her shaking hands. Her best friend anchored her head to her shoulder as she sobbed.

For the next few minutes, Beca's cardiac monitor and Chloe's weeping were all that could be heard in the room. Stacie stood up and started singing a slow tune.

 _The heart is stronger than you think,_  
_Like it could go through anything._  
 _And even when you think it can't,_  
 _It finds a way to still push on._

The girls looked at each other, and they knew they had to do it. They stood up as well, and sang the famous song to Beca.

 _Sometimes you wanna run away,_  
_And got no patience for the pain._  
 _And if you don't believe,_  
 _Look into your heart. The beat goes on._

 _Oooh, it's like we all have better days,_  
_Problems getting all up in your face._  
 _Just because you go through it,_  
 _Don't mean you gotta take control. No._

It was the usual Bella set up… with lead singers for each verse and harmonizing tracks. All training that Beca had pushed into them (including the  _Harana_  assignment) sharpened their talents and their ability to hop into a mix on the spot.

Chloe didn't want to join, so Aubrey stayed beside her and sang in her seat instead.

 _You ain't gotta be a prisoner in your mind._  
_(If you fall, dust it off.)_  
 _You can live your life. (Yeah.)_  
 _Let your heart be your guide. (Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.)_

_Light up the dark if you follow your heart,  
And it will get better through whatever._

The girls stood side by side, holding hands and linking their arms as they sang before Beca's bed. Chloe clung to Aubrey's shirt as she bridled the rest of her desperation. They were singing beautifully. It was a calming tune, and Chloe liked it.

 _You need to know,_  
_If the mind keeps thinking you've had enough,_  
 _But the heart keeps telling you, 'Don't give up.'_  
 _Who are we to be questioning, wondering_  
 _What is what? Don't give up._  
 _Through it all, just stand up._

 _You got it in you. Find it within you._  
_(Everything will be alright, yeah)._  
 _Find it within…. Find it within…_  
 _Through it all, just stand up._

The Bellas ended the song, and once again, the room drowned in silence. They circled Aubrey and Chloe who stayed still in their seats. No one said anything; they were just there for Chloe, Ashley, Jesse, and Sebastian.

Chloe retrieved a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it.

"What's that?" Aubrey asked.

"It's a song that I wrote for her," said Chloe, her voice breaking.

"Do you want us to sing it?" The blonde offered.

Chloe shook her head as she locked her sight down to her nervous hands on her lap. "She hasn't woken up yet, so I'm not singing it."

Aubrey pulled the redhead into a comforting embrace, rubbing a hand on her back as she tried to convince Chloe. "You've always told me that Beca wasn't always good with speaking what was on her mind, and it made you sad. If you won't let her hear your song, you'll be making her sad too." She pulled out. "Be her reason to wake up."

Chloe's bloodshot eyes stared at her, then she nodded softly, so Aubrey led her up to her feet. The blonde took a glance at Chloe's music sheet and quickly regrouped the Bellas (and Jesse) and oriented them about the track of notes that they were going to sing to back up Chloe.

The redhead was still holding Aubrey's hand when she began to sing.

_Aren't you something to admire,_   
_'Cause your shine is something like a mirror._   
_And I can't help but notice you_   
_Reflect in this heart of mine._

_If you ever feel alone and,_   
_The glare makes me hard to find,_   
_Just know that I'm always_   
_Parallel on the other side._

Chloe walked towards Beca's bed and intertwined her fingers with hers. She tried to sing the next verses, but her emotions got the best of her and prevented her from continuing. The Bellas continued with the harmony, and Jesse went to Chloe, helping her through as he sang the next lines from her paper.

_I can't ever change without you._   
_You reflect me. I love that about you._   
_And if I could, I would_   
_Look at us all the time._

_'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocketful of soul,_   
_I can tell you, there's no place we couldn't go._   
_Just put your hand on the glass. I'll be trying to pull you through._   
_You just gotta be strong._

The redhead leaned in and gave Beca a light kiss on her forehead, ran her hand through her girlfriend's locks and collected the rest of her strength to finish the rest of the song. Chloe looked at Beca, like her eyes were awake.

_It's like you're my mirror,_   
_My mirror staring back at me._   
_I couldn't get any bigger_   
_With anyone else beside of me._   
_And now it's clear as this promise,_   
_That we're making two reflections into one._   
_It's like you're my mirror,_   
_My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me._

The beautiful mixture of sounds that they all made, resounded like a sacred sonnet that the angels ought to hark. Sebastian stood by the door as the rest were gathered around Beca's bed. He couldn't hold the tears that pooled in his eyes. The a cappella number made all the hairs on his body stand; it was haunting and powerful, like the waves of the ocean hitting the large rocks near the shore.

_Yesterday is history and tomorrow's a mystery._   
_I can see you looking back at me._   
_Keep your eyes on me, baby._   
_Keep your eyes on me._

_'Cause I don't wanna lose you now._   
_I'm looking right at the other half of me._   
_The vacancy that sat in my heart_   
_Is a space that now you hold._   
_Show me how to fight for now,_   
_And I'll tell you baby, it was easy_   
_Coming back into you once I figured it out:_   
_You were right here all along._

_It's like you're my mirror._

Just as she sang the final word of the song, Beca's cardiac monitor beeped faster and louder, and in a split second, Eaton and the nurses were inside the room as well with a crash cart. Aubrey ran to Chloe and pulled her away. Jesse led the Bellas out of the room as the medical team tried to revive Beca's heart rhythm. The harsh sound signaling a cardiac dysrhythmia upset the atmosphere, and even the medical team was frantic about saving the patient's life.

Chloe began yelling at the top of her lungs and released herself from Aubrey's grip to run back to the girl who had her heart. Sebastian was fast enough to restrain her in his arms. He kissed the young woman on her head as tears raced down his own cheeks.

There it was, the high-pitched steady beep that seemed to never end. Eaton shook his head and panted as he stared at his wrist watch, and called  _it_.

It drowned Chloe's panicking head into muteness as she held to Sebastian's shirt to dear life. Her world turned silent, as she fell into despair, into powerlessness. It was like every bone in Chloe's body wriggled and shattered. Sebastian struggled to keep Chloe under control as she was falling to her knees while crying out Beca's name over and over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. The songs here are Just Stand Up (by various artists) and Mirrors (originally by Justin Timberlake, but I listened to Boyce Avenue's rendition in reference to this chapter), and I don't own them because I did not compose them. I love you, guys. I hope you're alright.


	20. Chapter 3-2: You Little Wallflower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect.) All those character development and foreshadowing led to these final two chapters. I re-read the story from the very beginning before proceeding with this chapter and it was a lot more heart-breaking than when I first wrote those words. Tell me what you think of this chapter, guys. Your reviews/comments will help me write better.

**Chapter 3-2: You Little Wallflower**

 

_[1 week after the funeral…]_

Jesse visited the library that Beca's mom used to own, hoping to find his best friend in there. He knew very well what happened, but it all went so quick that it didn't feel like it was real… like this was just a long night terror that they have yet to wake up from. He stared at the pillars and the cobwebs at the corners, reminiscing the memory of Beca. He wondered if it was his fault at some point, because he was supposed to watch over her all the time to make sure that she didn't harm herself through her vices. He wondered if it was worth it, if Beca knew what he was doing and why he had been the  _'killjoy'_  for most of the time.

"How are we supposed to endure this, Beca?" He whispered to himself as he closed his eyes. "How am I supposed to endure this?"

Jesse clenched his fists, fighting the urge to cry. The library was Beca's refuge from all the hurt that was winning over her, and he wondered why it couldn't offer him the same comfort.

He went to Casa Bella and rang the doorbell. Ashley met him with tired eyes of her own.

"Jesse? What brings you here?"

Jesse slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants and took a deep breath. "Is Aubrey in there?"

"Yeah," replied Ashley, and he let the Treble inside.

He knocked on Aubrey's door shyly. When the blonde opened up, she furrowed her brows at the image of Jesse's red eyes, puffy nose, and the sad curve on his lips. "Why are you here?"

Jesse gulped nervously. "Aub, it's me… Rykerr Spence."

Aubrey had to step back as she felt a sudden spin in her head. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"I didn't know where else to go, Aub. I can't handle it anymore." His voice broke and he shook his head before looking down to his feet.

If it wasn't for the sadness that was in his eyes, Aubrey had thrown a hard slap across his face. Obviously, this wasn't the time to opt for such reply. She pulled him inside her room and shut the door. "Why didn't you say a word about who you are?!" Aubrey yelled.

Jesse shrugged. "It's a long story. I d-,"

"I'm all ears," the blonde cut him off and folded her arms. "Tell me the long story, Rykerr."

Jesse managed to bear Aubrey's raised eyebrow and angry lips. "It was Beca, at first."

"Beca?"

He nodded. "The first time you talked to Rykerr Spence, it was Beca. She made that account because it was in her bucket list to be a comfort to a stranger via online chatting. It's weird, I know. Beca was always weird like that. It just happened that you were the first one to vent out on Rykerr Spence."

"Unbelievable!" Aubrey threw her arms in the air. "A-and you just took over?"

"When Beca grew too busy with keeping up with your online schedule, yes. She begged me to be Rykerr Spence one day, because according to her, you were in an awful situation and you badly need someone to talk to. It had been me ever since." Jesse's voice broke once again. He bit his lower lip as he tried not to cry.

Aubrey slapped a hand to her forehead. "You haven't answered my question yet. Why didn't you say a thing to me about it?"

"Beca wouldn't let me. She said that the truth will piss you off and that will stop your friendship with Rykerr. She thought it best to keep him a mystery to you, so you'll always have someone to tell your troubles to." Jesse explained.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "I would've stopped talking to you, yeah. For Pete's sake, I told you about the Bellas' planned routines! You could've been a spy or something!"

"I'm not that of an asshole," argued Jesse. "Look, Aub, I didn't come here to piss you off, but-,"

"You just did, Jesse!" Aubrey said, annoyed.

"I know. I know. And I'm sorry," His voice turned little. "It's just that, my emotions are killing me and I don't feel comfortable letting it all out on anyone but you. We've known some deep stuff about each other, Aub. You know me better than anyone else, now that Beca's gone."

Jesse let his sobs out and Aubrey held him. This time, she was his crying shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just miss her so bad," said Jesse as he cried.

"It's okay, Jesse," Aubrey comforted, running a hand back and forth his back. "It's okay. We all miss her presence."

* * *

Chloe sat on her bed and stared at blank space. It had been a stressful week for her; if she wasn't sobbing to herself, she was frozen like this – saying nothing, eyes fixed at nothingness. At the funeral, she had managed not to make a single sound. There wasn't a formal service, because no one wanted to speak about the loss. No one had the courage, not even Sebastian.

When Aubrey asked about how she was doing, Chloe either ignored her, or muttered an insincere  _'I'm okay,'_  which the blonde never bought. The frantic crying and the hysterical gestures ended on the same night Beca passed, and since then, Chloe was as silent as the stars at night.

Before she would fall to slumber, Chloe would hold onto her red pillow, the one Beca used to love when they were roommates, and just stare at the ceiling, with her back flat on her bed. It was the same depressing routine for the redhead. No one but Aubrey had the strength to always check on her.

"Chloe Beale! Wake up!" Aubrey roared, interrupting Chloe's rest. "Wake up! Wake up!" She nudged her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Chloe yelled back.

The blonde helped her sit up. "You're about to slip into clinical depression, Chlo. And I can't let that happen." She ran towards the wardrobe and picked up a blue dress. "Here. Change up. We're going to do something!"

"Mind if I ask what it is, and where we're going to do it?" Chloe inquired as she rubbed the sleep off her eyes.

"You'll see soon," replied Aubrey. "Hurry up! I'll be waiting for you in your car." She grabbed Chloe's keys from her drawer and headed out of the room.

After a few minutes, Chloe was in the driver's seat. "Where to, miss?"

Aubrey turned her GPS on and set a point on a curious location. "Just follow the turns, Chlo."

Chloe rolled her eyes and drove off. The only reason she agreed to her best friend's agenda was that she knew she wouldn't stop talking at her ear about it if she decides to pass.

"You're angry. I get it," said Aubrey as she sat in the passenger's seat.

"Finally," agreed Chloe with a flat tone. "M'so angry."

"At whom?" The blonde asked. "And why?"

Chloe didn't say a word back. She drove to where the GPS told her to, as Aubrey kept babbling. After a few minutes, the redhead pulled over and killed the engine. "An empty lot… Seriously?! What is this?" She ranted as a grassy land met her sight at her right side.

Aubrey released her seatbelt and went out. Chloe followed her deep into the lot. They stopped walking upon reaching an old blue car with flat tires and rust eating it up.

"Aubrey?" Chloe narrowed her eyes as she tried to decipher everything. The blonde handed her a steel bar, which was about two feet in length. "You want me to… smash the windows of that car?" She guessed, and Aubrey nodded.

Chloe didn't know the end point to all of it, but she mounted the bonnet of the car, anyway. Taking a deep breath, she raised the bar using both of her hands and blew it rigidly towards the windscreen, letting out a yell that was vulgar to the peaceful air around them. She panted while she watched the glass multiply into tiny pieces and scatter.

Aubrey smirked deviously from afar. "Let your anger out! Let it all out!" She called to Chloe.

"I hate you, Beca Mitchell!" The redhead bellowed through gritted teeth, as she took another smack onto the glass.

Aubrey heaved a sigh upon hearing those words from her best friend's mouth. She didn't see it coming. She thought about stopping her, but resisted the temptation, as the smashing will finally let Chloe's guard down and let her feel again.

Chloe hysterically whacked the bar to the different surfaces of the poor car while she articulated all the bridled anger in her heart.

"You fucking son of a bitch!

"You said you weren't going to pull an  _Augustus Waters_  on me!

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

"You were one secretive bitch! You didn't trust me! You were a horrible person! Ahhhh!

"I loved you, didn't you fucking get that?! Huh?! You left me here! How dare you!

"You little bastard!

"You had to hurt me 'til the very end!"

Chloe's tears flowed down, and her ranting ended with a desperate cry. She jumped back to the ground, and then smashed the side mirrors and the door handles. "You left a lot of questions unanswered! You left me blind on things! I loved you! Did you even love me back?! I know you did but I never heard it from your lips, why did you have to leave me like this?" The last sentences led her down to her knees as she took defeat and cried her heart out.

Aubrey, who was also in tears, walked to the redhead and led her up. "You okay?" It wasn't the perfect inquiry at the moment, but she said it anyway.

"I loved her," was all Chloe could utter.

* * *

_[The next day…]_

Chloe woke up with a throbbing headache from yesterday's weeping. It was both a curse and a blessing to demolish the walls around her heart. Letting herself feel again unloaded the ton of bricks in her chest, but at the same time, all the pain tortured her like there was no tomorrow.

She definitely felt better than the past few days, thanks to Aubrey. Although she wasn't sure about the things she said yesterday, they were the thorns that caused her to bleed, and now they were gone.

She could still hear ANTM's theme music and Beca's squeals in her head. She could still taste her lips when she closed her eyes and remembered their time together.

It all happened too fast. No one was prepared for it, not even Beca herself.

Chloe roamed around the room and smiled when she stumbled upon some things that Beca left when she moved out. She opened her wardrobe, and the emptiness reflected the one inside her. There was a compartment at the bottom that was partly open, and something silver inside it, reflected the light of the room. She reached down and pulled it back further, revealing a shoe box covered in foil, with a cute scribble reading  _'PROPERTY OF BECA MITCHELL'_  on the top surface.

She took it out for a closer look. She had never seen the box before, or had heard from Beca that she owned such.

 _Curious little thing_ , she thought.

Chloe took off the lid, and a pile of papers showed up, with a CD on top of it all. She took the disc, which had the words  _'FOR HER'_  on the label. She went to her laptop and installed it, finding one video file stored in it. It was shot about two weeks after her first date with Beca. When she played the file, a scene with a dashing Beca Mitchell met her. The brunette was trying to fix the video camera before settling at the center of her own room at their house with a guitar.

"Uh, I don't know h-how this really goes, but I'm d-doing it anyway," stuttered Beca.

"I've been trying to write this song for Oh-Chlo for many weeks now." She cleared her throat, fighting off the nervous vibe inside her. "I'm not really good at writing songs, but Oh-Chlo needs to have a song written for her, especially now that she's already my girlfriend." She chuckled nervously. "I may finish this in a couple of weeks, or in a couple of months, or in a couple of years… I don't know when, but I'm going to sing it to her someday."

Chloe held a hand over her shocked expression. She was watching Beca and her lovely eyes (which she thought she'd never see again). Taking a deep breath, she composed herself to be able to finish the video.

Beca grabbed the guitar that rested on her bed, and plucked a few strings. "I'm going to sing what I got so far, and I'm videotaping it because I might forget the tune and the chords as time goes…. Here it is…"

Chloe's heart started to race when Beca started singing. All she could do was stare at her adorable features, and listen to the words that the brunette tried to write for her.

_Sometimes late at night,_   
_I lie awake and watch her sleeping._   
_She's lost in peaceful dreams, so I turn out the lights,_   
_And lay there in the dark._

_And the thought crosses my mind,_   
_If I never wake in the morning,_   
_Would she ever doubt the way_   
_I feel about her in my heart?_

Chloe hit pause and buried her face into her hands as she cried aloud. Aubrey rushed inside her room when she heard her best friend, and sat beside her at her desk. The blonde saw the paused video on the screen, and held Chloe as she let her sorrow out.

"She was trying to write me a song," Chloe said in an almost whisper.

"Really? Come on, let's watch it. I'd like to hear the rest of it," said Aubrey in her motherly tone.

Chloe resumed the video, and leaned her head onto Aubrey as they both watched.

_'Cause I've lost a loved one in my life,_   
_Who never knew how much I loved her._   
_Now I live with that regret,_   
_That my true feelings for her, never were revealed._

Beca tugged the wrong string and halted her singing. "Oooops, wrong chord…" she remarked. "Sorry. Um, here's the chorus part." She cleared her throat and continued singing.

_If tomorrow never comes,_   
_Will she know how much I love her?_   
_Did I try in every way, to show her every day,_   
_That she's my only one?_

_And if my time on earth were through,_   
_And she must face this world without me,_   
_Is the love I gave her in the past gonna be enough to last?_   
_If tomorrow never comes…_

Beca scratched her head. "That's all it for now. I kind of hate it because the words are too simple, and Oh-Chlo is an artist. She only appreciates poetic words. I kind of, just wrote her a message, and then turned the words into a song, hence the simple fucking words. I hate my life." And she rolled her eyes playfully.

The video ended, and Aubrey was left with a broken Chloe Beale…  _again_.

"Where did you find that CD?" The blonde inquired. Chloe pointed to the silver shoebox at her desk. Aubrey reached for it and opened it. "These are a lot of papers, Chlo."

She browsed through the folded papers and figured that they all had names on them. She saw one that read  _'Dad,'_  one that read  _'Ashley,'_  several more that read familiar names, and a bundled set of folded papers with the label  _'Chloe'_  on it.

"They're letters," said Chloe as she deciphered the collection of sheets. Her widened eyes couldn't believe what was in front of her. There might've been more to Beca than anyone else thought.

"Yeah, they are. They're for us. Wait. I think they're more of… notes,  _about_  us." Aubrey shuffled the folded papers and saw a lot of familiar names. The blonde shook her head sadly.

_Oh Beca, you little wallflower…_

Chloe unfolded the one that read  _'Cynthia Rose'_  and read the words out loud. "CYNTHIA ROSE. The first woman who believed in me despite my lack of niceness. When everyone else started throwing rocks at me, she strived to see the good potential in me. That's her talent: seeing the good in everyone. I'm glad that we became friends because it's not every day that I get to meet people who won't easily be pushed away when I do push them far away. If it weren't for her coaxing, I wouldn't be able to love the rest of the Bellas. She is such a gem and I think that her previous girlfriend was a big asshole for betraying her and letting her go. I do understand her gambling addiction; it is her only way of dealing with her self-loathing that resulted from the breakup. In my personal opinion, however, I don't think she needs to mingle with those bastards who do nothing but beat her up when she couldn't pay. There is good in everybody, so there is good in her. I hope that she sees the wonderful person inside her, the way she sees others' potential light."

The two exchanged curious looks. "What are all these notes? Why did she write them? And why didn't she SEND them?" Aubrey wondered.

"I absolutely have no idea." Chloe stared at the note she read and traced her thumb over Beca's handwriting. "She was left-handed, you know?" She told Aubrey. "But among the left-handed people, Beca had the worst font." She laughed.

"Yeah, she wrote like a first-grader," jeered Aubrey, which made Chloe laugh more.

They spent the afternoon distributing Beca's notes to their respective subjects. Aubrey gave Jesse's, Cynthia Rose's and Stacie's; Chloe handed Ashley's, and Sebastian's.

When they were asked about what was the paper all about, the two girls simply shrugged. Nevertheless, they assured them that the words inscribed mattered and that a minute or two of reading it wouldn't hurt.

Ashley seemed to have gotten a shorter note than Cynthia Rose. She read the note aloud right after Chloe handed it to her, and the redhead gathered it was about twenty words shorter… but the freshman cried like a baby upon reciting the note. The older Bella pulled her into a hug and smiled at her sweet reaction to all of it. She and Beca weren't that close, but Beca apparently appreciated her enough from a distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. Thank you so much for sticking with this story until the very end. Thank you so much for all your support. Shoutout also to all the Beta-readers who contributed for the betterment of this work. It has been a pleasure writing this story. I'll post the last chapter soon, don't worry.
> 
> By the way, the song featured in this chapter was 'If Tomorrow Never Comes' (by Ronan Keating) and I don't own it.


	21. Chapter 3-3: With One Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative team behind Pitch Perfect). I hope you enjoyed Beca and Chloe's story. This is the last chapter. Thank you so much for all your reviews! I appreciate them a lot!
> 
> Shameless plug: Perfect Days (by yours truly), it's a BeChloe one-shot in Beca's POV. | Another shameless plug: The Obliteration of Emily Junk (by yours truly), it's another BeChloe multi-chapter story.

**Chapter 3-3: With One Note**

 

 **STACIE.**  This tall woman never liked me. If you scan your eyes at the Bellas, and have your eyes landing on a tall brunette with curves like a Greek goddess, that'd be  _The_  Stacie Conrad. You'll get attracted at the very first sight, and I won't blame you for that. I would, however, cut your balls off if you think that her body is the most interesting thing about her. Stacie, behind her mesmerizing eyes and glorious hair, is a woman with dignity and a heart that is secretly knowledgeable of a greater kind of love. You'll see it in the way she treats the people around her. I just hope that Stacie herself knows that. She hides behind one-night stands and no-string flings, thinking that it's all she'll ever have. That's where she's wrong. I know she's been hurt by assholes before, and that caused her to build the walls around her heart. I just hope that she stops depriving herself of good possibilities that she finds love.

We either break up with the person we're in a relationship with, or marry them. Even if she lets the next guy in, and everything ends up in quits, I hope that she'll regret nothing about the real thing they had, despite the hurt that came along. For where there is love, there is pain. And for most of the time, we find ourselves in a gamble of getting miffed for the sake of that thing we crave the most: LOVE. Stacie deserves love just like everyone else in this planet.

-Beca

* * *

 **DAD.**  My superhero (next to Mom). (Sorry, she will forever be my number one.) Although I hated it that he had swiftly replaced Mom with Sheila, I loved that ol' folk of mine. It has been a wonderful  _just-you-and-me-against-the-world_  type of journey with him, and I love every single second. He's the usual parent: with the alcohol restraints and everything. He always over-concerns himself when it comes to me. I understand why he's like that. I have Sickle Cell Trait and I need extra care. I seem to always brush him off when he lectures me, but just so he knows, I'm aware of what I should be watching out for. Sometimes I do slip out, but I have Jesse as his spy so he really doesn't have to keep an eye on me one hundred percent of the time. His teaching schedule is already hectic and I hate to be a boulder on his way.

I know that Mom's death still hurts him the way it still hurts me. He may never show it, but that's because he is always trying to be strong for me. Dad is not really that strong of a person like my mom and I. He's the weakling, to be honest. He would be rushing me to the hospital in the middle of the night with a composed self, but I know that his heart would be pumping so hard and so fast. He probably figured that I needed a new figure of strength, now that Mom's gone. I know how hard it is to keep a game face even though your heart is failing to keep you erect. I hope he knows, that I appreciate it so much.

-Beca

* * *

 

 **JESSE.**  He loves movies and soundtracks. That's the first thing I'd like to describe about him. Ever since we were kids, he loves paying attention to the score and the music of the screen. It can be annoying sometimes, I tell you, but you can always see his passion for it… And passion is never annoying, I guess.

Moreover, Jesse  _"Smartass"_  Swanson, is my best friend. We've known each other practically our whole lives. He describes me as 'insane,' and he would be the one making me less insane. He is also Gregory Haull's saving grace. If it weren't for Jesse always getting in my way, I could've already killed the guy… literally. And that would be a murder that I'd be proud of, to be honest.

When I got diagnosed with Sickle Cell Trait years ago, I spent my energy trying to waste my life. I was very reckless at a young age. That was when Smartass-Jesse said that I should keep a list of the things I want to do with my life, positive or negative. At first they were all self-destructive items, but then I realized that crossing out items that were all for nothing was so boring, so I gradually included out-of-the-box entries.  _Smart move, Jes._

There are more things I can say about that guy, but I think I'll deliver the rest as a personal message instead…

_Jesse, if ever you're reading this shit, I just want to say thank you for always looking out for me. You always make sure I don't do something stupid, and you're doing a great job at it. I know I'm headstrong all the time, and for some of that time, I become wittier than you – my bad behavior gets past your security radar unnoticed. You're probably the wisest son of a gun I've ever known, and I'm thankful that I got the chance to know you. You're like my big brother, my partner in crime, my babysitter, my best-est friend. I can see us in the next ten years, making music together. I can see my LA apartment next to yours, and we'd leave for the studio at the same time every morning, working on the same projects._

_I look forward to that, Jes._

-Beca

* * *

 **CHLOE (1).**  I have to put a number beside her name because I'm guessing there's going to be more than just one note about her.

One of my bucket list entries says that I should make notes about the people that matter to me the most. Honestly, I don't know what went on in my mind when I wrote that shit in that notebook of mine. It sounds like a fun commitment, though. So here I am, starting on it. I decided that I make my first note about Chloe Beale, because I'm never good with words, and when it comes to describing people, it is her that I can say a lot about, at this moment.

She's my roommate, to start with. She has very beautiful red hair that falls in slight curls and ends just past her shoulder. If you think you're already in love with my first description, wait 'til I tell you about her electric blue eyes. They're the prettiest set of eyes, I swear! The blue hue highlights itself out with the help of her hair. That's how gorgeous Chloe Beale is.

She's also very touchy, very clingy. She likes hugging people a lot. It's weird, actually. I love my personal space, but when she invades it, I just freeze and let her in. If I didn't know any better, I'd be thinking that she has a crush on me or whatever. YEAH, RIGHT… A girl like her will never look my way! Anyhoooo, she's also an artist. She likes all forms of art. When I went into our room yesterday, I saw my desk and my wardrobe bedazzled by her.  _Jeez._

Chloe makes me feel things I never knew I could even feel. It's driving me nuts. Not to fret, though. It's probably just in my head. Last week, when she addressed her  _Harana_  assignment to me, when she sang those songs of hate to me, I felt absolutely crushed. Usually, I have no problems with people raising middle fingers at me, but when Chloe was the one who got angry, I cried. YES, PEOPLE! BECA MITCHELL CRIES TOO. ARGH! I went home that night and cried on my dad's shoulder.

She left me a note that night. She sort of wants me to treat everyone less  _bitch-y_ , and I can't help but to listen because she has this damn power over me. I kept that little paper with a half-done sketch of a pine tree at the back of it. I like her presence and that note reminds me of it a lot.

-Beca.

* * *

 

 **CHLOE (2).**  Newsflash! Chloe Beale is now my girlfriend! I REPEAT! Chloe Beale is now my girlfriend! I'm fucking blushing as I'm writing this shit. It all happened too fast. We had a date and I sort of just kissed her and then one thing led to another.

I'm the luckiest ass in the whole world, d'ya get that?! She's my girlfriend now and I couldn't be happier. Chloe is like my muse. Without realizing it, she helps me write my song faster, and better. Have you ever encountered a person so perfect, you just want to drop on your knees and pay your courtesy?

When I said that Chloe makes me feel things, I should've known it was this great admiration. I like every inch of her. Of all the people I've met, she was the only one to break into my maze of walls. She's amazing like that. Chloe is the only person in the world whom I would share my cornflakes with. She means to me that much.

At first I was afraid of completely letting her in, because if she gets attached and I die all of a sudden, I'd be breaking her heart. But then… to hell with uncertainty! I want her by my side and I'll do anything to keep it that way forever. I'm thinking of bringing her to Mom's library, actually. That place has a special place in my heart, just like Chloe. Tomorrow, probably? Or the day after that? Hmmm, I think tomorrow will do just fine. I hope she'll like the library. It's my favorite escape place.

-Beca

* * *

 **CHLOE (3).**  A lot has happened since Chloe and I became a thing. We learned a lot about each other during these past few weeks of being together. I used to think that she's perfect and that we'd be perfect together. Now that I know that she's not, I still want her. It's driving me insane. She's all I could think about.

 _I love her._  YES, I SAID THE 'L' WORD. I love her so much. The first time she told me that she loves me, all the hairs in my body stood erect and the most I could do was to smile sincerely. I don't know why I don't have the strength to tell her those three little words. I'm pretty sure she's dying to hear me say it; I can see it in her longing eyes. I feel like I'd be doing my love for her a great injustice if I tell her those three little words because words definitely cannot encompass how much I treasure her. I hope she feels it in my kiss, or in the way I caress her soft hair, instead. They are far more better descriptions of how far I'm willing to go to make this relationship work.

One thing I discovered about Chloe, is that she loves pain. From the stories she told me, I can gather that her life is perfect, and the lack of trials in it is what bothers her. Can you believe she actually tried to run away from home during her senior year? And for no reason at all! She craves pain so much, while I deny it a lot. I kind of understand her, though. Sometimes, pain is the only real thing around. Chloe wants pain because it is all that makes her feel alive. Honestly, she is more alive than any other person I know. I'm not really sure why she needs a hurting reminder. She's more real than anyone in this fucking planet. Whether or not I'm saying this because I'm whipped, doesn't matter. It's what I saw in her when we first met at Jackson's party, and it is what I still see in her nowadays.

I have so much to say to Chloe (mostly about how much I love her), but I don't know where to start. This writing thing makes my head ache all the time. I've been thinking about it for some time now, and today I'm making up my mind. I'll make a videotape of what I want Chloe to know, and maybe someday I'll give it to her… probably when we're oldies in our rocking chairs, remembering our college days.

There are some words that I can put to paper at this moment, though. It's not much, but it's for her…

_O-Chlo, I wish I met you earlier, like when I was still in high school and everything in my world was a complete mess. I'm sorry I didn't take good care of myself. I'm sick and some days are better than the others… some days I feel like my odds will end me before I'm even thirty. If I had known that I'll be meeting someone like you, I would've resisted all those bottles of alcohol and the mountain of stress._

_Now that you're in my life, I became more dedicated in complying with my treatment, because now I have a reason to live. I'm doing my best to keep myself still breathing. Thanks to you, I finally know why people endure life despite all its bullshits. If you ever read this note, it means that you decided to clean my things because I'm going to hide this pile of shits under my messy stuff._

_I wish I'm strong enough to stand in front of you and tell you the words you want to hear. You deserve a person who can verbally express what's on her mind, and I'm trying to be that person for a while now. I love you._

-Beca

* * *

Stacie struggled as she tried to remove the twigs that got stuck in her wedges. She continued walking inside the woods, with her  _iPhone_  as her flashlight. The yellow yarn was harder to follow because of the tearing, but it was still manageable.

The tall brunette took a wrong step and fell off her balance, breaking her ankle. "I fucking hate the woods!" She yelled, as she caressed her sprained ankle.

"Then why do you keep coming back?" An anonymous voice spoke from nowhere, surprising Stacie.

She breathed hard before whispering, "Donald? Is that you?"

The Treble helped her back to her feet, but the ankle gave more pain than it should, so Stacie depended on him for her balance. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Stacie opened her mouth to answer, but Donald intercepted. "Wait! Let me guess… Theta Pi? Is there another party going on in there?" He mocked.

"Actually, I came here hoping to find you," she corrected.

Donald helped her make a few steps before gently placing her to sit at the base of a tree, with her back safely leaned back against its trunk. "Me? You came to see me? Why?"

"I was wrong, Donald. Okay?" Stacie started. "I was wrong when I said I didn't like you, or when I told you I didn't have feelings for you."

Donald froze. "Oh my god."

"What?!" Exclaimed Stacie. "Do I have something in my hair? Is there a mountain lion out there?!"

"Stace, I think you hit your head." He sat beside her.

The tall brunette rolled her eyes. "I didn't hit my head, Donald. I know what I just said. And I mean every word of it."

He chuckled. "What changed?"

Stacie shook her head. "Nothing changed. It's just that… there was this one girl who had the power to move, to influence, and to remind me of the truth. With one note, she managed to open my eyes and see what I have been overlooking for so long." She aimed for his lips and gave him a quick kiss, much to his delight.

"If it's okay, I'd like more roses," muttered Stacie, making Donald blush.

* * *

Aubrey, Jesse, and Chloe sat at the floor of the redhead's room in silence, as they all recited Beca's notes about them. They had their own turns, and no one was to comment anything about what just got read until all have finished reciting papers.

"I still don't regret treating her like shit," said Aubrey, making Jesse and Chloe laugh.

"I understand. Some of her ways weren't really likeable," said Jesse, whose eyes were redder than the rest of them. All this time, he thought he was playing the martyr card for going unnoticed.

"Jesse?" Aubrey looked at the Treble. "Remember when we talked about The Picture of Dorian Gray?"

The freshman smirked and rolled his eyes. "Is Beca still Lord Henry in your analogy?"

Aubrey nodded. "But this time, I'm not mistaking  _'catalyst'_  for  _'spark,'_  and Beca's the latter one." She cast out a soft smile which Jesse returned.

"I'm guessing you want to find that second CD," said Aubrey, turning to Chloe's direction.

"Yeah, I'll help you find it. Beca was tricky at times, but I was always smarter," followed Jesse, with such optimism in his face.

Chloe stared at that third note, the one that had the half-done pine tree taped at the back. She brought the paper near her and placed a light kiss on Beca's handwriting, smiling when she sensed her perfume in the material. Beca couldn't stand her perfume, but it turned out that she secretly liked it too.

"I won't go after that second CD," muttered Chloe, which startled her friends. She looked at their confused faces, and pressed her lips tightly together as she tried to explain her decision. "Beca was right at a lot of points. I got caught up in wanting to hear her say those sweet words, that I overlooked her actual expressions of her love. Actions really do speak louder than words. I wonder why it wasn't enough for me." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I realized that I don't need her telling me how much she loves me or how beautiful I am in whatever I wear, because it was the same as her smiles, her hugs, her stares, and her kisses when she was still alive."

Aubrey gave her a tight hug. "Beca was like this goddess of storms who brought one damn hurricane that moved us all without even knowing it."

"Yeah." Jesse wiped the lone tear that ran down the curve of his cheek. "Except that it wasn't with one damn hurricane, but with one note… with one damn note."

_**fin** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. I'll be posting a feature author's gratitude thing for you guys soon! Stay tuned!


	22. Author's Gratitude

Hello!

I know it's been over a year since I ended this story. I'm posting this section to personally give thanks to all who gave this story feedback... and to all its readers, in general. I never thought I'd be able to accomplish a short novel with over 70,000 words. I've always known myself as a "no-follow-through" type of person. There was a time wherein I envisioned my FF dot net profile to be full of unfinished stories... so being able to close this story really means so much to me as a young adult and as a writer. Then there's the passing of my father in the middle of writing With One Note. I seriously thought I would never write again because of it, but I love writing too much to let it go just like that - so I fought hard for it. I would start typing words and then pause to cry, and then just resume typing whenever I can. With One Note was the very first multi-chapter I got to write 'til the last word, and I have you guys to thank for it as well.

In gratitude, I thought I should do a sort of a 'run-down' of my journey in writing this story...

* * *

**1-1 The Notorious Bastard.**

I couldn't be more pleased with myself the moment I completed the first scene. We are introduced to Beca Mitchell, the tiny girl who thinks she can have the world to her feet whenever she wants... and then, there's Chloe, who immediately grew a peculiar kind of interest in her. My foreshadowing also already started in this chapter. When Sebastian stressed out that he has "a lot of reason" to be concerned, I already built the nature of Beca's health condition, though untold yet.

* * *

**1-2 Your New Head Bitch.**

This was the beginning of Aubrey's personal mini story line. By introducing Regine Posen, I showed the readers that as tough as Aubrey acts around everyone else, in her very own home, in her very own family, she was just an average overlooked member. She was the middle child, and probably because of her father's detachment that she never knew her worth as a daughter and as a sibling. This is Aubrey's driving force to "over-achieve" in all things.

And because we get to know Gregory Haull as Beca's bully in the previous chapter, I found a way to use him as Beca's reason for agreeing to lead the Bellas. With her reckless, happy-go-lucky personality, this Beca Mitchell wouldn't really have a valid reason for joining the Bellas if it weren't for vengeance.

Half of the scene at the cafe was just a filler (the part where Beca was acting weird around Jesse)... but I did manage to give it an explanation in the later chapters, if you guys remember.

* * *

**1-3 Pocketful of Sunshine.**

Chloe opened this chapter, yay! I introduced her "art" side in this one. We also see her getting a crush on tiny ball of rage Beca Mitchell, and figuring out that she may have something more than just that bitchy facade. If you weren't liking Beca yet at this point in the story, it's okay. She's meant to be loathed by basically everyone until the moment she cries because Chloe sang her songs of hate.

The Harana assignment. Beca has this tendency to 'experiment' with a lot of things, given her expected shortened lifespan. She wanted to spice this assignment by making it all about hate. Why hate, though? It's sort of what's inside her all these years. She's angry at all the events - her mother's passing, her Sickle Cell, Haull... everything. Primarily though, Beca only wanted to train the girls' creativity.

* * *

**1-4 Impending Disaster.**

I guess we get to be disappointed that Ashley, being Beca's cousin, could only say as much about her childhood pal. She obviously knows about the gem inside Beca, but like she said... it wasn't her story to tell. Ashley respects Beca's discretion on who to tell about her condition. The first scene of this chapter was the very reason Cynthia Rose believed in Beca until the end. I brushed off the idea of writing this scene, but then I realized it would create a character hole if I didn't give Rosie a concrete reason to "see the good" in Beca. She only learned that Beca's unlikable attitude was because of her own baggage, and that was enough for her to believe in the person hiding inside that facade. One of the themes of With One Note is "going unnoticed." No one really had appreciated Rosie in this story other than Beca.

We get to see Chloe's growing fondness of Beca! When the brunette couldn't remember Chloe from the party, it was just the side effects of having abnormal red blood cells.

Healthy breakfast. Beca likes to serve her girls super healthy breakfast... more often than not, it involved green leafy veggies in a salad. Green leafy veggies are the recommended therapeutic food for anemics, like Beca... and she simply wanted her girls to boost their blood health, because that's one thing that her own body cannot do.

_"You own a grand piano?"_

_"And you're just donating it?"_

_"Yes. It's okay, really. I might not be using it soon, so I want the Bellas to make good use of it."_

_"Might?" Chloe said under her breath. **Is she dying or something?** " She joked, whispering to Aubrey._

Oooopps, Chlo. Too soon. Yeap you guys, one of my crazy foreshadowing.

Oh, and Beca does realize when she's hit someone's nerve, so that makes her a person who does feel, but simply chooses not to.

Thanks to Chloe, Beca is initially saved from getting Aubrey's Harana dedication.

_"You joined the Bellas so you can get back at Haull. Didn't you tell me that yesterday at the cafe?"_

_Beca was silent for a short while. "But it wasn't entirely because of it." Beca spoke. "I mean, some part of me wanted to do this for some other goal. I just can't figure out exactly what it is."_

Beca has already felt an attachment to the Bellas as early as this point in the story, she just didn't want to admit it to herself that she actually cares for people... She wanted to win the ICCA's not just to kick Haull's ass, but also to give her girls a celebration.

Jesse Swanson here, as Beca's close friend since middle school, throws wise quotes at Beca, because he plays as her "big bro" who keeps her out of trouble... and well, because Beca has a chronic unstable health condition.

_"And the point of socializing with others is that maybe one out of the ten idiots you bump into everyday will like you for you and stay."_

_"One out of ten... That's reassuring," scoffed Beca._

My brain was screaming BeChloe when I was writing this part. Chloe being Beca's "one out of ten" melts my heart.

This chapter ends with introducing Beca's immediate love for Chloe's blue eyes. Pretty writing tool for facilitating romance between characters? Hmmm, more like, pretty writing tool for characterizing Beca Mitchell.

* * *

**1-5 But Thanks.**

The opening scene was just a filler scene so I can introduce Donald and Stacie's mini plot line. Another foreshadowing: The Fault in Our Stars as Beca's favorite book.

_"If this is really a room for two, why is there only one bed?"_

If it crossed your mind that Chloe Beale moved mountains to sell the bunk beds and replace it with a single bed for her and Beca, then wow. You got it fucking right. Chloe chose to lie about it because she didn't want to creep Beca out. I mean, come on, Beale. All for a crush?

We see a tipsy Stacie Conrad bumping into Donald in the woods... and she's horny as hell. Fortunately, Donald is a grown man who knows better not to take advantage of the beautiful woman in front of him. This is what Stacie couldn't understand in her later encounters with the Treble. She always thought men only want one thing from her... that she's not one of those girls who gets to experience a higher form of love. Another character internal conflict for y'all.

The birth of the nickname Oh-Chlo! Beca has a thing for forgetting names because her Sickle Cell makes her brain perform a little less than good. Beca needed the nickname to help remember Chloe's name. Now, the conversation about eyes is one of my most favorite part of this story...

_"And that's the thing, Becs, - sometimes, those little things that can only be appreciated at a closer view are the most beautiful ones. It's like, they stay reserved under radar because they are so precious to be easily out in the open; the fact that it would have to take a persnickety eye for it to be extremely beautiful sums its worth all up."_

This is my most favorite line from this story, to be honest. Chloe Beale right there, unintentionally and metaphorically described the wholeness of Beca's character. At a short glance, you see Beca Mitchell as a worthless unlikable person, but if you take the time and the patience to look deeper (like Chloe and Cynthia Rose did), you'd see Beca for the beautiful person that she is. You get to understand how pain and sadness fucked up Beca's view in life. You get to understand why Beca chooses to behave the way she does. If you set aside her flaws, you'd see Beca. Her kind of beautiful stays reserved from public view because it is rare, and it is precious.

* * *

**1-6 The Jesse Status.**

Now we really get to see Cynthia Rose's personality in action when she fought not having Beca as the recipient of their Harana.

_"Please," Beca mocked. "Why skip on the good stuff? Life's too short... like really short."_

Foreshadowing point right there.

Aubrey and Declan! Here we get to have more reasons to hate Regine and more to love Aubrey. Beca was right when she wrote in one of her notes that Aubrey Posen was basically Wonder woman.

Paint cans! Uh-oh. Beca was only playing with Chloe but apparently, she had pushed her to the limit already. Well, if it weren't for her leaving the details of where she actually placed the paint cans, Chloe wouldn't have gotten angry at her, the Harana wouldn't have been redirected, and Beca wouldn't have let herself feel pain again. So, thank you paint cans.

* * *

**1-7: Once a Bitch.**

_Sebastian was rather glad that Beca was courageous enough to face pain... at last._

Awww, Becs. As if she hadn't had enough pain at such a young age... She didn't let Aubrey hurt her emotionally... but she let Chloe. The thing is, a person can never really hurt us until we let them inside the zone where they can do damage. It was a representation that Beca had let Chloe get past behind her walls (and neither of them really had noticed this completely).

Beca hating Chloe's perfume? Now we know she wasn't trying to be a bitch. She has Sickle Cell, and she couldn't bear strong scents of any kind. Nothing personal, Chlo... but then, she didn't know.

More Donald and Stacie interaction! Oh, and we realize that the reason Stacie was in the woods again was because she was trying to spy on Jesse to know if Beca lost her sanity after the Harana. Everybody hates her, and they have the reason to do so.

Beca ditching the Bellas. I just wanted to prove a point that sometimes, because of our first impression on someone, we tend to falsely judge every single move that they do.

* * *

**1-8 With Just One Note.**

Ohhh! The chapter that gives meaning to the title! Nahhh. Sorry this wasn't it. I added the word "just" in the hopes of utilising a red herring making the readers think that this is the turning point of the story that gave rise to the title... that this is the ultimate note of all. And besides, "with just one note" was in the context of Chloe's character, and our main protagonist here is Beca, so that should've given it away too.

Beca doesn't feel the need explaining to the Bellas that she has Sickle Cell and a dead mom. She doesn't care what people thinks of her, anyway (except what Chloe thinks). Beca loathed the look of sympathy in people's eyes. She doesn't tell her story around because she doesn't want to feel low about herself than she already does. Now, she lets Chloe inside, slowly, little by little.

Rykerr Spence. I don't need to say more about Rykerr. Beca and Jesse explained it in the final chapters. This was the ultimate channel Beca used to show that she cared for Aubrey.

* * *

**1-9 Favorite Escape.**

Beca actually opens a conversation with Chloe about her exceptional aptitude for fine arts. Beca wanted to know why Chloe was choosing to be in a profession that she obviously doesn't enjoy that much.

We learn from Aubrey that Stacie and Donald went down the road of a friends-with-benefits status... and the cupcake Beca handed her was sort of like a "foil" scene to give the dramatics a rest... More importantly, I put that cute scene there to serve as a partial answer, another red herring as to who Rykerr really is. Aubrey was talking to Ryk when Beca knocked at her door, so it could not have been Beca behind the account. Not that it made a lot of difference for most of you, but it was really cute. And because I'm a strong Jaubrey shipper as well, I found a way to merge Jesse into the whole online chat thing.

Let's bring Haull back into the story because she was Beca's initial reason for joining the group.

The story ends with the revelation that Beca got Casa Bella two fully-furnished studios. What a gift, Becs!

* * *

**1-10 Cornflakes.**

Okay, so Chloe got mad because she thought Beca wasn't serious with the Bellas winning the championships. All we get from Beca was that she "seriously doesn't know what to do."

Donald wants the real deal with Stacie, but he gets rejected. Ouch. Much like Fat Amy's initial rejection of Bumper in the second film!

Cynthia Rose and Beca's scene is a beautiful one, because Beca discloses that she's confused and doesn't know what to do to make her girls like her, to make Chloe like her. Because she sucks at dealing with people, Beca tends to make bad choices when socializing. Beca was having a self-esteem crisis that's why she was stagnant at prepping for competition... and this is introduced to us when we realize that it only took one person who believes in Beca to make her maneuver her thoughts around.

The knife art. I've explained this in one of my chapter notes later in the story. It wasn't a filler scene. It was a gateway for you guys to get to know Chloe's inner conflict.

* * *

**1-11 We Good.**

Cynthia Rose's humility points out her 'martyr-like' personality. I developed Rosie's character in this way to prove a point that being open-minded, being a wallflower who can understand things, being a positive-minded person who believes there is good in everybody... it is strength. You don't need to change the world to matter, because just by reminding people about the part of them that glows already makes a difference in their lives. People like Cynthia Rose are greatly overlooked, and her plot line in this story is a homage to all you unappreciated wallflowers.

Donald figures out that he'd rather downgrade to how things were with Stacie than not have Stacie in his life at all.

Beca's fondness over the TV show ANTM... This was just an overview of the real Beca Mitchell that Chloe now gets to enjoy at a closer view.

And the cornflakes... we thank the almighty cornflakes for the progression of Bechloe in this story!

* * *

Anyways, I'll do the rest of the fic some other time. If you have questions (about the characters, about events, about my writing, etc) please leave them at the review page or send me a personal message. I'll try to address as many as I can next time. I hope you enjoyed this feat! See you!


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